The City of Mages
by Joyed Roman
Summary: Louise just wanted to prove she wasn't a failure and summoning her familiar was going to prove that. She didn't expect to bring an entire city. Neither did she expect them to be the answer to her problem.
1. Chapter 1

**Well I've had another idea stuck in my head so now I wrote it down to get it out of my head. The majority of the nobles in Zero no Tsukaima appear to be jerks to commoners what with their magic proclaiming their superiority. I dislike how they think commoners are beneath them in everything and I would love to see them try making their own food, cleaning their own clothes, etc.**

**Anyway I thought of how the Nobles would they react to a completely different magic system where magic is wielded not exclusively by nobles. The College of Winterhold seemed like a good premise as they seem to appreciate merit above other things like wealth, political connections, and nobility. That and since I think magicka is present in all beings, just that some have more than others. If this isn't true then it will be here anyway or otherwise my entire idea falls apart.**

**Since the college seems a bit underwhelming for a great place of learning and magical research. I embellished on it and made it bigger than it actually is in Skyrim. This will also be set after the events of Skyrim, so Alduin will be dead and Paarthurnax was spared to lead the Dovah on a more peaceful path. I still dislike the blades for even asking me to kill him.**

**Since I supported the Legion then they will have won the Civil War though that won't really matter that much anyway. Also I made everything 'bigger' otherwise it would seem a bit strange. Honestly the Civil War has major battles consisting of about maybe 15 guys and there seems to be more bandits, necromancers, Forsworn, etc than there are people in cities.**

**Disclaimer: Zero no Tsukaima belongs to Noboru Yamaguchi and Skyrim belongs to Bethseda.**

**(EDIT: Just a warning in advance that there are spoilers for Zero no Tsukaima or Familiar of Zero in the reviews.)**

* * *

The Archmage walked down the empty halls. His footsteps echoing as he made his way towards his quarters. Down in the great hall, the majority of the students and mages were busy getting them drunk as they celebrated. The old Bosmer had already had enough alcohol and wisely chose to retire before temptation overtook him. The resulting hangover was that he risked was not worth the short amount of pleasure he may receive from the over consumption of alcohol. It would hardly be benefiting for someone of his position to be publicly drunk anyway.

It was the 32nd Anniversary of the day Winterhold was officially restored. Unlike his predecessor, he had worked hard to cultivate relations with the local Nords and new Imperial-backed Jarl Kraldar. Offering the services of the College in the restoring Winterhold to its former glory, the Archmage, Motabe and Kraldar worked cooperatively to this end.

While initially wary of the Archmage, Jarl Kraldar had eventually caved in and accepted the College's aid. His desire to help Winterhold back to its former self; overcoming his distrust of the mages.

While Winterhold was still not as great as it used to be, it was now on the way. There were suspicion and sometimes outright hostility from the residents initially. But after years of financial problems and a decreasing population they eventually accepted their aid, though some were still grumbling about it.

Lacking any source of major income, they had serious financial issues until Motabe realized Winterhold's greatest resource. Magic.

The mages of the College of Winterhold was what the province was famous for. So it was decided to put them to use. Groups of students under the supervision of senior mages were sent around Skyrim, offering their magical services in exchange for gold septims and selling their surplus of potions to those who need or want it.

This not only provided a stable course source of income, as the Archmage donated a generous portion of the money towards the restoration effort, it provided the students with more practical experience and relieved the Nords of some of their mistrust of magic.

The School of Restoration was especially sought after as the healing of injuries and diseases they could provide for a few septims was both convenient and cheap. That is not to say the other Schools did not play their part.

The School of Illusion played their role more discreetly, charming animals and setting up temporary petting zoos. This was greatly received at the cities where the people inside rarely see the more exotic creatures that roamed Skyrim that ranged from the simple rabbits and birds to the more unique Snow Foxes and Bone Hawks. They even managed to somehow persuade the Solitude Guards to allow in a Sabertooth for their show.

The telekinesis spell from the School of Alteration was considered one of the most useful spells to have. The heavy lifting required for construction and the like was made aided by the mages from this school. While they lacked the actual skill to actually build structures, leaving that to for the real builders they could magically lift heavy stones and timber.

The School of Destruction and Conjuration had the least success of all the schools. The ability to destroy things was only valued by mercenaries and the Imperial Legion and many related Conjurers to necromancers making many scared of them.

The increase of magical activity in Skyrim had raised alarms in many people's heads. Though, thankfully, this never escalated to actual violence against them aside from the occasional insult and slur. In fact, the prestige of the College was slowly being rebuilt as their numbers increased for the first time in ages.

With this newfound wealth Kraldar was able to jumpstart Winterhold's economy by investing it into the Whistling mine, extending it in search for more iron and producing employment opportunities for the Hold.

He also set to devote more of the economy on the College. His theory was that the College was tied to the fortune of the Hold. Though the Great Collapse had left the College relatively unharmed; it did not stop the decline of the College.

So by improving the College then it would hopefully attract more immigrants to fill their declining population. And since the College was sending back their earnings from their trips back to Winterhold, more magi would also mean more wealth. More wealth would attract more people and hence the cycle would repeat.

After 20 years of this. Winterhold was well on its way, already the population had boomed to its pre-Collapse levels. The small desolate town had expanded into a once again prosperous city with the College being the main attraction of the Hold.

The College of Winterhold itself rapidly grown from the measly 12 members they had 20 years ago to nearly twenty five hundred members including the now need house staff. Mages now taught full dedicated classes of students in their prospective Schools of Magic.

The Midden was cleared of the creatures within it and reconstructed to make room for the College's growing roster. The more dangerous sections such as the Atronach Forge and the Daedric Relic was sealed off to the majority of the College, requiring the supervision of an Senior Mage to even enter their respective chambers.

The Augur of Dunlain was strangely not found. The door to its chamber had mysteriously disappeared though some have claimed that they have spoken with the Augur on occasion when they were greatly troubled.

The Halls of Attainment and Countenance had been moved to the refurbished Midden and were expanded to make room for the new students and mages. The now empty room were turned into lecture halls and labs for alchemical projects.

The Hall of Elements remained largely unchanged and was now the location where the members of the College gathered for announcements and the like. The Arcaneum, however was moved to the very bottom of the Midden. The number of Scripts and text becoming too large for its original size to contain.

The room now was a dining hall for the whole of the College. Aside from a lavish table reserved for the Archmage and the Master Wizards, the entire room was now a place for the population of the College to mingle and socialize.

Motabe paused as he heard Kraldar's loud and hearty laugh beneath him. By Julianos, the man was loud. Smiling wistfully as he began to enter his chambers.

_I Louise Francoise Le Blanc de La Valliere..._

Turning around; he scanned the corridor. There was no one here but he and he would have been able to detect the life force of anyone trying to hide. So where did that voice come fr-

_In the name of the great Five Pentagon Powers…_

_Five Pentagon Powers? _Thought Motabe, as he backtracked towards the Great Hall.

Rushing back down to the Great Hall he saw many of its occupants passed out on tables and on the floor. Those still somewhat sober were looking around in confusion and asking who was speaking like that. Some of the closest looked to him, questions at the tip of their tongues.

_Following my fate, summon my familiar!_

_Familiar! _Was the last thought that went through Motabe's head as a sudden bright green light enveloped him.

* * *

It was spring at the Tristanian Academy of Magic. A class of students were gathered at the Vestri Court. Among them was a collection of creatures that had been summoned as familiars.

Many of the students were now busy showing off their new familiar to their peers. The familiars themselves were confused at the sudden change to their location but quickly adapted as the charm spell that was integrated into the contract spell set in.

Guiche finished his summoning. His boasts of summoning an earth dragon turned to naught as a he was crushed by a huge mole that landed on top of him. There was scattered laughter among the assembled students before Montmorency rushed to his aid and shot an angry glance at them which silenced the laughter.

The teacher, Colbert nodded in satisfaction as Guiche completed the contract spell that binded the newly named Verdandi to him. Already Guiche was professing that he planned to summon the mole from the beginning to save his pride.

"Now, then the Springtime Familiar is complete let all go back to-"

"Louise hasn't gone yet!" Interrupted Kirche

Not minding the interruption, Colbert turned to Louise who was trying to hide behind the crowd of students that quickly moved away from her.

"Ah yes, I'm sorry I forgot you Miss Valliere. Now if you would step forward to summon your familiar" He said kindly.

Inwardly cursing the Zerbst scion, Louise stepped up. She swallowed down the nervousness and lifted her wand.

"Francoise Le Blanc de La Valliere..." She could feel the power rising inside her. The same feeling she got whenever she cast her spells. The same spells that have always failed for her.

"In the name of the great Five Pentagon Powers," This time it was different. The swelling feeling inside her was more powerful than ever before. _Maybe this time would be different,_she optimistically thought.

Louise finished her chant. Her anticipation rising. This was moment where she would prove to her tormenters that she was not a failure.

"Following my fate, summon my familiar" she shouted.

The resulting explosion rocked the courtyard. Several of the watching students were knocked off their feet from the power of the blast. A large dust cloud covered the courtyard obscuring Louise from view.

Tabitha lifted her staff and muttered a quick spell and a cool wave of wind blew away the dust to reveal Louise and only her. Immediately the snickering began as the few students who managed to maintain their balance got a good look.

"Hah, that was the biggest explosion yet."

"She's Louise the Zero after all!"

Louise trembled. Her one chance to prove she wasn't a failure and she failed it. She failed to cast even the simplest of spells; she even failed summoning a familiar. What was her mother going to say? Would she want a failure in her family?

Colbert prepared to step in and stop the taunting when he noticed a small white orb falling from the sky. No, not just one but hundreds or thousands of snowflakes fell from the sky.

The students stopped their taunting and cast their eyes towards the sky. Faces fill of amazement as watched the snow descend onto the Academy.

_There was snow; in the middle of spring? _Thought Colbert, he had seen many things in his lifetime but and this wasn't the strangest but_… That was not normal. And it happed when Louise finished her summoning. _Turning to stare at the frozen Valliere,_ could it be?_

He found Louise staring off into the north. Following her gaze he widened his eyes in shock. There only a few kilometres from the academy was a small snowy rise. On the small rise was a large city that had an equally large wall surrounding it. Within the city was a tower, a tower that overshadowed all the other buildings within the city.

Louise had not failed her summoning. She had finally succeeded in performing magic. Whether that was a good thing or not remained to be seen.

* * *

Groaning softly Motabe painstakingly picked himself off the floor. The hall looked like a mini tornado had spun into it. Chairs and tables were lying broken and scattered around the room. The mages and students were now only getting up themselves.

The few already up were now trying to wake up their unconscious fellows, whether they were just intoxicated or actually injured was debatable. Already the few senior magi in the room were organising the assemble students and mages to work.

Knowing that the Great Hall was in capable hands; Motabe lurched out the door, shaking off the hands of those who went to help him. He might be old but he was still capable of taking care of himself.

The courtyard shared a similar scene. The few outside at the time had fallen into the snow, making life like imprints into it. His boots crunched on the snow as he made his way towards the gate.

He recognised the type of magic used. While it wasn't the same it gave him the similar feeling to when he observed when the Psijic Order transported the Eye of Magnus away, supposedly to their hidden isle.

If that was the case then the College was somehow transported to an entirely different location. And if the entire College was teleported then Winterhold ran the same risk. Using his magic to push open the large metal gate, he sighed in a mixture of relief and annoyance as he saw the city of Winterhold below him.

The usually sleeping city was now fully awake as people got onto the streets in confusion. Talk of a green flash and magic could be heard even from this distance as everyone looked for answers. City guards could be seen herding the people back into their homes assuring them that everything was fine and the problem will be taken care of.

He made his way to Kraldar's home. With the improvement of Winterhold, he had been able to move to quarters more benefitting of a Jarl. The new stone palace he lived in was guarded by the replenished Winterhold City Guards. The two guards on duty let him in with a polite nod of greeting.

As Archmage of the College, he was one of the few able to meet Jarl Kraldar without prior notice. The two of them were long-time friends and complemented each other well.

Kraldar was the more charismatic and political savvy of the two. His efforts in restoring Winterhold had made him much loved by its citizens and the soldiers of Winterhold were known for the loyalty to him. A capable fighter in his youth, he had brilliantly led Imperial troops against the Stormcloak army during the Civil War decades ago as Jarl of the liberated Winterhold and was often seen near the thick of the battle, leading his men from the front and not the back as many generals do now. Now a large number of veterans from his forces made up the city watch.

Matabe on the other hand was more reserved and quiet. Rarely speaking unless he needed to, he was a prodigal mage of great power that had managed to defeat the Thalmor infiltrator, Ancona, who managed to kill Savos Aren, the former Archmage. While not loved by Winterhold like Kraldar he was well respected and was sought out from across the Empire for his wisdom. While he kept the College mostly neutral during the war, it was well known that he had provided healing potions and the like to the Imperials.

Entering the hall Matabe found Kraldar already awake and on sleepily sitting on his throne. Beside him was his housecarl Thonjolf eyeing him warily. The two had never seen eye to eye and while they were willing to work with and respected each other they could hardly be called friends.

Kraldar glanced up at him and gestured for a servant to bring a seat. Sitting on the hastily procured chair Matabe sat and waited for Kraldar to start.

In turn Kraldar waited for him, sure that the issue was the result of a failed experiment.

The silent game was lost by Kraldar as he sighed. "So Archmage Matabe, what has happened? There was a green flash of light that woke up the entire city and now I'm getting crazy reports from the watch of the entire landscape changing. Even for the College; reshaping the entire landscape would be an impossible feat of magic."

Seeing that the Jarl used his formal title meant that he was undoubtedly peeved at the situation. He answered just as formally. "Jarl Kraldar, I am unsure of it myself. Though I have theories on what magic was used for this."

"So you admit your hand in this" accused Thonjolf.

Glaring at the housecarl Matabe replied. "No I did not. I admitted that magic and that I'm familiar with this form of spell, not that the College caused this."

Seeing that Thonjolf was not convinced he pressed on. "The entirety of the College was celebrating and too busy getting themselves drunk to have possibly cast magic on this scale. Even generating a large light like that would have been impossible for all but the most powerful of our mages."

"Who else could have caused this? The College is the only magical institute within Skyrim to have a sizable number of mages. That there are some within your number actually capable of this means that it's likely that one of the Master Wizards themselves did this." Argued Thonjolf.

_Thonjolf was definatly angry at something he's not usually this aggressive, even on bad days. _Pondered Matabe. Taking in a breath he prepared to speak before Kraldar then let himself into the conversation.

"Quiet Thonjolf, let Matabe speak." Thonjolf bristled at this but stayed quiet.

Satisfied, Kraldar turned back to the Archmage. "Now you said that you have theories on what has happened. Let's hear them"

Matabe nodded, "My first theory is that this is just some sort of prank by some student. If this is the case then rest assured as the student will be severely punished for this."

"The second is that this is the same form of teleportation magic the Psijic Monks used, this means that they have transported us somewhere for reasons unknown" At the mention of the mysterious order of magi both Nords looked more worried.

"The third most likely one is that this is the result of outside influence. Am I right in saying that both of you heard a voice before the flash?"

They nodded to this question.

"I believe that was some sort of spell that caused the flash. The report of a changed landscape means that it probably has the same properties as the Psijic's teleport spell."

Kraldar was now looking fully awake and gravely concerned.

"And the last part of the spell is what has me concerned." Finished Matabe.

"The last part?" inquired Kraldar.

"Jarl Kraldar, did you not hear it" asked Thonjolf.

Kraldar looked somewhat sheepish. "I was asleep when it happened. I didn't hear what was said."

Clearing his throat, Motabe told him what was said.

Now with his new knowledge, he asked "So the familiar part has you worried?"

"Yes, if the entire city was summoned then I fear for the ramification of this." Motabe replied gravely.

"I believe it would be for the best if we kept people within the city. Meanwhile I'll travel outside and confirm if we have truly been teleported."

Kraldar looked worried. "Then you will take some of my soldiers with you, there is no telling what is out there now."

"Thonjolf, find Captain Skald and tell him the he and his men are to escort the Archmage."

"As you command" replied Thonjolf and he quickly left towards the barracks.

Staring at the Archmage, "Motabe, I want you back by midday at the latest. I'll need a report of your findings." He told the Bosmer seriously.

Motabe placed a fist on his chest. "I will do so my Jarl."

* * *

Louise reined in her horse and shivered. The snow was seemed to be heavier and heavier as they got closer to the city. By the time they had reached the city gates, her teeth were chattering.

"Professor, now what do we do?" asked Louise.

Colbert scratched his chin in thought. He had hoped that the gate would be opened and they could enter. Now that he was closer he could see the unique architecture of the city. It was human, that much was certain though none like any he has ever seen.

"I'm not sure." The bald teacher replied honestly.

How could they open the gate? He was certain that he could probably blast it open but that would hardly be a good way to introduce yourself. That and a city this big would have soldiers in it and he wasn't confident in killing an entire city's worth of guards by himself.

Louise shivered again as she stared at the gate. Did she really summon a city? It was unbelievable. Nothing like this had ever occurred before in history. What if this caused a diplomatic incident? It would mean disgrace for her fa-

She was interrupted by the groaning of rusted metal as the gate opened outwards. She and Colbert pulled back a little and observed a small group leaving the city.

There were twenty guards, each drabbed in cloaks for warmth but the heavy armour could be seen bulging in the cloak. Then there was the robed individual apparently leading them. By the way the commoner soldiers deferred to him he was certainly a noble of some kind.

Seeing this as an opportunity, Colbert slowly approached on his horse. Both hands lifted into the air as a universal gesture of peace. Upon spotting him the soldiers gripped their weapons while the robed noble returned Colberts gesture.

"Greetings. Who are you and what brings you to the City of Winterhold?" the voice was raspy as the noble asked Colbert.

Deciding not to reveal Louise's hand in this he answered. "I have never heard of this City of Winterhold and me and my student were investigating the sudden appearance of your city."

There were mutterings among the armed men before the noble lifted his hand and silenced them. "Have you heard of Skyrim? Tamriel? The Nine Divines?"

At each of these Colbert shook his head at each of these. The noble seemed to be in thought before he addressed the men. "Captain Skald, you will need to accomplish the mission on your own then. It is best that I take these 'visitors' to meet with the Jarl."

One of the soldiers replied. "Yes Archmage"

The column began to tread off into the snow while the robed man gestured for him and Louise to follow him. "Come, the Jarl will want to hear this. I'm Motabe the Archmage of the College of Winterhold."

Colbert nodded "I'm Professor Colbert of the Tristan Academy of Magic and this is Louise Francoise Le Blanc de La Valliere, my student."

The man lifted an eyebrow, though they could not see. "That's quite a long name you have there."

Louise felt slightly indignant but kept quiet. The noble had introduced himself as an 'Archmage'. Judging by how the others had deferred to him he was certainly a mage of considerable power of at least triangle and maybe square class.

Seeing her face Motabe apologised "Ah, I did not mean to offend you or our name Louise Francoise Le Blanc de la Valliere." The foreign name easily rolling off his tongue.

As they entered the city Louise was awed. She had seen cities before in Tristan. Some were larger than even this. Far larger.

But what surprised her was the magic. Lanterns were lit by glowing lights that seemed to appear only when you get close. There were other robed men and woman milling about magic with their bare hands. Lightning bolts and florescent lights lit up where a crowd of people watched in awe to a performer. That was high level magic and most mages never reached that level.

They reached a large beautiful palace. The two guards at the door seemed surprised at the quick return of the Archmage but otherwise let them in. The trio moved swiftly through the foyer and into the main hall where two men were conversing.

The one on the throne was richly dressed and there was some buoyant feeling about him that made you feel useful. The other was older and looked far more serious, he was standing and saying something about untrustworthy mages.

Motabe waited patiently as the two conversed, completely oblivious to them standing there. Eventually the Archmage cleared his throat and attracted the two nobles attention.

"Jarl Kraldar, I have returned."

Jarl Kraldar looked at them in surprise. "Indeed you have. And not alone it appears."

"Who are they?" Asked the other man.

Colbert took this opportunity to introduce himself. "I am Professor Colbert of the Tristan Academy of Magic."

The older man rubber his head in frustration "Great more mages."

Kraldar glared at the man to be quiet before setting his gaze onto Louise. "And who is the little lady that is with you?"

This time Louise couldn't stay quiet. "I am Louise Valliere from the Valliere family." Intentionally shortening her name to avoid whahappen deed last time.

Obviously the famous House of Valliere meant nothing to this Kraldar as he heartily laughed. "Hah, you have fire in you girl."

Motabe rolled his eyes before he realized he was still wearing his hood. Pulling it back he didn't notice the stares that he received from Louise and Colbert.

"El... El...ELF!"

* * *

**Well that's done now I can go back to other story. The last part was done on a IPad and I have to say autocorrect is really pissing me off.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the advice Cyricist. I already accounted for most of what you said, though the social difference slipped my mind. I hope I can somehow manage to do this too. **

**As for chapter size, I'm not sure whether I can make it longer but I'll try to. It's just that sometimes I reach a point where ending the chapter seems like the logical thing to do. It's hard to explain.**

**From my understanding magicka comes from Aetherius and the stars as they flow into Mundus. So everyone in Halkengenia should also be able to cast magic as result of having a sun and stars. I also suspect that commoners there could also cast magic if given a wand and proper training but that's probably never going to happen and if it did it'll be written off as the commoner being the illegitimate child of a noble.**

* * *

Louise was shocked, afraid and confused in that order. That Motabe had turned out to be an Elf was a shock. A Elf, mankind's greatest enemies. That shock had turned to fear, when she remembered that a single Elf was at least Triangle class mage.

This Motabe said he was Archmage. While she didn't know what that was it sounded like a position of authority so that must mean he was really powerful. Maybe he was even Square class or beyond.

Of course this fear turned to confusion when she realized that the two nobles they met were more surprised at her outburst than the fact there was an Elf in the building. This confusion only went further when she saw that even Motabe was surprised, didn't he know that humans and Elves were enemies?

Colbert on the other hand looked far calmer than he should be. This was true since on the inside he was panicking. So far the Elf seemed peaceful but who knows how long that would last. But if wanted him and Louise dead he would have attacked earlier. And why what was an Elf doing in a human city anyway?

"Yes that is I am, but I prefer to call my race by; Bosmer" Motabe slowly said careful to not provoke their two strange visitors.

_Bosmer? What was a Bosmer? Some kind of Elven group? _Louise thought.

"No, that is my race's name." Replied Motabe.

Realizing that she had spoken her thoughts aloud, she squeaked in a mixture of fear and embarrassment as the Elf looked at her with gentle eyes.

"You have no reason to fear me. I will not hurt you." He said in a soothing voice.

She must have looked like she didn't believe him as he asked. "Why do you think I'm going to hurt you?"

It was Colbert who answered this as he stepped protectively in front of Louise. "The Elves have been constant enemies of humans for thousands of years. Why should you be any different?" He said with barred teeth.

The Elf stepped toward them. Immediately she and Colbert tensed, expecting his imminent attack.

What he did next surprised them. Motabe dropped down to one knee and softly said. "I swear that your stay here shall be in peace and that I shall let no harm shall befoul you should I be able to stop it."

Their jaws dropped. Here was an all-powerful Elf kneeling before them. Motabe got back to his feet a small smile gifting his lips.

"Does that satisfy you?" he asked in that soft voice of his.

Louise and Colbert could only nod dumbly as Kraldar cleared his throat behind them, apparently tired of being ignored.

"As interesting as this drama is, I still have no idea what you have brought them here for Motabe."

"Ah, right" as Motabe remembered his purpose here. "I found these two just outside the city gate and I have never heard of this nation of Tristan that we apparently found ourselves in. I suppose my first theory is now void, not that I expected it to be true. I rather hoped it was though."

"If that's the case then what about your other two the-"

"Wait. Who are you people?" asked Colbert, finally regaining his wits.

Louise, behind him, was still out of it, her mind struggling to comprehend an Elf not trying to kill her and even kneeling and swearing an oath of protection to her. A little drool could be seen dripping down her mouth as her eyes remained unfocused.

The two Nords and the Bosmer turned to Colbert. It was Thonjolf who answered.

"You stand before the Jarl of Winterhold, Jarl Kraldar. I am his housecarl Thonjolf and I believe you are already in acquaintance with the Archmage of the College of Winterhold, Motabe."

"Jarl? Housecarl? Archmage?" Colbert spluttered obviously not understanding the terminology used.

Motabe seeing his confusion elaborated for him. "A Jarl is like a lord of a region. A housecarl acts as his advisor and guard while an Archmage is the leader of a mage's guild or in this case the College of Winterhold."

"You mentioned that you were a Bosmer. What is that?" inquired Colbert.

"It means Wood Elf, 'Bos' for Wood and 'Mer' for elf. Though we have no such war between your humans that lasted 10000 years.' Motabe explained.

_Interesting. _"Nothing that I have heard here of matches anything I know of Halkengenia. And how did you manage to bring an entire city to Tristan" Colbert asked despite having a sneaking suspicion of the answer.

Thonjolf snorted. "Tis the work of Mages, though not our mages it appears."

Motabe nodded. "The amount of magicka required to somehow teleport an entire city is beyond mortal means. Though it's possible one of the Daedric Princes had a hand in this. If so then I suggest it was Sheogorath."

The Bosmer looked annoyed as he brought up old memories. "Bringing an entire city from mundus to a completely different plane to see us squirm would seem like something the Mad God would do for entertainment. How he could have managed it, however, eludes me"

"If Daedra's involved then nothing good will ever come of it. I'm still wondering on how I'm going to announce this." Said Kraldar, as he joined into the conversation.

"My Jarl, I would suggest that you be bold and give it personally to a large crowd. That way people can draw inspiration from your calm during this crisis and reduce the panic that will inevitably follow." Suggested Thonjolf.

"And maybe tell them that this is not the work of the College. I would not like to face a fallout between my College and Winterhold." Added Motabe.

Colbert stayed quiet throughout this trying to think of excuses for his presence here. They will eventually ask why he was here and he couldn't tell them that Louise may have brought them here.

They probably won't accept that, as a teacher, he brought his student into danger by investigating a mysterious city that appeared. His introduction as a Professor at the Tristan Academy of Magic further limited his options.

Despite his inner turmoil he maintained a calm façade on the outside. His face interested, but not overtly so to avoid attention.

"But I digress; we were talking about our guests to our fair city. Now Colbert, was it, what are you doing here at the city gates."

Colbert cursed his luck as Kraldar asked him the very question he had been dreading. Already the other two had turned quiet as they awaited his answer.

What could he do? He didn't want to tell them about Louise, the dangers were too great. They would demand her to send them back, which was quite reasonable if they knew how, and failing that might keep her here to study whatever magic she performed.

But if he lied he risked them finding out. Eventually they will leave the city and since a whole class more or less witnessed Louise summoning a distant city that brought snow with it; it would be hard to keep that a secret. And what if they saw through his lies, he was never a very good liar, being too honest with himself, and lying to what appears to be two politicians was going to be hard.

Opting to go with the truth and hope for the best he truthfully answered. "We came here to investigate the city after Miss Valliere's strange familiar summoning."

Motabe raised an eyebrow at that. "A familiar summoning? Well that explains why her voice sounded familiar she was the summoner."

Thonjolf then looked at the girl in question, who seeing that she was now the centre of attention straightened out of her stupor. "So why can't the girl just send us back?"

Louise bristled at the way he dismissively addressed her. "I have a name. It's Louise Françoise Le Blanc De la Valliere"

Inwardly Colbert palmed himself at Louise's lack of tact. There were times where taking a more subtle approach was better and her domineering demeanour was not proving an asset here so far.

Thonjolf was less than pleased with this and looked ready to retort before Kraldar silenced him with a wave of his hand.

Getting off his throne he walked towards Louise. Colbert looked ready to jump in again before Motabe put a hand onto his shoulder, restraining him. "Don't worry, he won't hurt her." He whispered.

The words relaxed him a bit. But only slightly as Kraldar stood in front of Louise, looking like an imposing giant compared to the small human that Louise was.

Kraldar looked down onto Louise. His large form casting a shadow over her smaller frame. Louise's legs trembled in fear but her face was straight and determined as she stared right back at the giant in front of her. Her mother's words, the rule of steel, kept her firm despite how much she really wanted to run away from this confrontation.

"Well then Louise why can't you send us back then" Kraldar said his voice deep and threatening.

Casting off her fear, she answered the hulk before her. "I don't know how." she answered honestly.

There was silence in the hall as they waited for either to make a move.

Finally Kraldar subsided and withdrew back to his throne. "Well at least your honest about it girl."

Louise ignored the jibe as she finally let out the breath she didn't know she was holding in.

"Still, can't you at least try to send us back?" Kraldar asked as he lounged on the throne again.

"Magic that is not understood is best not to be tried." Answered Motabe in her stead.

"It would be better if we studied the spell that brought us here and try to reverse engineer it. Hopefully once we gain a thorough understanding of it, we can recast it to return to Winterhold."

Kraldar frowned. "Knowing you mages, that could take years."

"Better than us all teleporting to a different unknown plane. And next time we might not be in as hospitable lands."

"The Academy would be glad to give their aid to this venture. It is due to us that your city is here and we have a moral obligation to help you." Offered Colbert.

Motabe looked at Colbert and the old Professor flinched, still not used to seeing an Elf even if he was apparently of a different kind. "My thanks for your offer, we would gladly accept you aid."

"Now that we have that somewhat cleared, I must ask where exactly did we end up at?" asked Kraldar directing his question at the bespectacled man and his student.

"Well, the nation you're in is the Kingdom of Tristan. To the north is the…"

* * *

Louise and Colbert rode back to the academy. An entourage of grey cloaked soldiers and armoured battlemages rode with them. One of Kraldar's 'Thanes', Arlerus Jurulonus, rode beside them. Their horses barely could keep up, but the sheer size and endurance made up for its lack of speed.

Jarl Kraldar had apparently decided that it was for the best that he dispatch Arlerus with them to explain things on their side when the Tristan Crown came to investigate. Considering there was a large portion of land near the academy now becoming a snow field, said investigation could not be far behind them.

He could not come himself unfortunately, as Thonjolf pointed out, since it might cause a panic if people found out the Jarl had left the city. No, the Jarl had decided to stay behind and break the news of their predicament to his people. He joked that if it was him then they wouldn't throw things at him for bringing them the bad news.

It had become clear the further out they went how much the landscape had changed. It was as if the entire earth had shifted to make room for the new territory that 'dropped' right into it. Where the once was lush fields and farmland was now frozen tundra. The local wildlife was nowhere to be seen and white coated wolves could be seen prowling about.

It was not as if all disappeared. Instead the natural Tristan soil appeared to have been shifted apart to make room for what the newcomers called their Hold of Winterhold. A strange name, but suitable seeing that winter never appeared to end here.

They encountered a few villages that obviously was part of Winterhold, there was a talking cat!, on their return journey to the academy. It was really a miracle that the two Tristanians didn't notice them earlier, being too focused on reaching the much more obvious city.

They were stopped at Fort Kastav, the fort that now apparently marked the boundary between Tristan and Winterhold. The Winterhold soldiers within had spotted them and intercepted them in hopes of finding out what had happened and why they now had completely different scenery on their horizon.

It took a quick explanation of the situation for them to let them pass. They excluding Louise's part in it as Motabe, Kraldar, Colbert and even Thonjolf had agreed that it was dangerous for the knowledge of who brought them here to be common. There may be those within Winterhold who would try to exact some petty vengeance on her for stealing them away from Skyrim. Which was quite counterproductive seeing that she was their best hope of going back.

Seeing the familiar walls of the Academy again, Louise let herself relax. The last hours had been taxing on her and Colbert. Neither were used to the extreme cold that weather of Winterhold brought daily. Nor were they used to dealing with the people itself.

Nobles and politicians were not meant to be like the Nord leaders she encountered. The two had been loud, impolite and arrogant in their own way. They acted more like commoners than actual Nobles.

Yet she couldn't help but admit that they had a charm to them. They were easy to talk to, or at least Jarl Kraldar was, and seemed to genuinely care about their people and took their responsibilities seriously. Something that many Nobles seem to forget nowadays she noted with disappointment.

Once past the gates and into the courtyard, they immediately began to attract attention. It was midday by then and most Academy dwellers were having their lunch. There were also a large number of second years tending to their new familiars.

The 'Zero' and Professor Colbert returning with around just over 20 other riders bearing an unknown banner was more than enough to cause a stir in the academy.

They dismounted near the main gate as she and Colbert led Arlerus through the Academy and into the Headmaster's office, leaving their escort to deal with all the questions that was going to be asked about their arrival.

Thankfully the headmaster was for once not ogling his secretary when they entered his office. Instead he was sitting comfortably in his chair, back straight and looked as if he knew exactly when they would enter his room.

Miss Longueville stood by his side as the trio got into the room while Colbert closed the door behind them to keep out unwanted ears.

Osmond rested his chin on his hands as he studied his guests. "Well, Jean when I sent you away to investigate Miss Valliere's 'summon' I didn't expect you to bring back guests. Well then why don't you introduce us?"

"Of course Headmaster, this is Arlerus Jurulonus, Thane of Winterhold. That was the city we now see."

Gesturing to the headmaster. "And this is Headmaster Osmond of the Magic Academy of Tristan, and his secretary Miss Loungueville."

Arlerus Jurulonus bowed his head slightly. "It is good to meet you Headmaster. And you too my lady."

The Headmaster returned the gesture. "Likewise"

"Now I must inquire as to why you are here at the academy?" asked Osmond.

Arlerus quickly replied. "Me and my men are here to await this lands Queen. My entire hold has been teleported here by magical means thanks to one of your students."

Louise flinched slightly at the reminder.

"It's only logical we meet with the local government to avoid misunderstandings. And as the generous Professor Colbert here, invited us to wait for them here, it's only civil to meet with you as the one in charge of this fine facility."

It was pretty speech but that was it. Obviously this one was used to the game of Lords and Kings.

"Oh is that so. Well then you and your men are free to stay as long as you like. I'll have the servants make room for your party to stay for the night. Princess Henreitta is expected here tomorrow so I doubt you will have to wait for long."

Arlerus looked confused slightly at the mention of the Princess. "That is a relief; I did not expect a royal party to arrive so quickly. Though I doubt otherwise it would not be our arrival that brought such a quick reaction from the crown would it?"

"I'm afraid not. The Princess is traveling here for the festival that the Academy will be arranging tomorrow."

The Thane let out a wistful sigh "I thought as much, though it would have helped my ego to know that royalty would come so quickly to meet me." He joked.

While they talked, Louise was starting to sweat. She had forgotten about the show. She was hoping to show off her new familiar proudly to her best friend and princess. She looked down at her hands sorrowfully, now she would never be able to do that.

While summoning Winterhold had more or less confirmed that she could indeed cast magic, she didn't have a familiar for the same reason. She couldn't go around contracting the tens of thousands of person in the Hold. Not to mention the number of mages that Winterhold was supposedly famous for.

"-lliere. Miss Valliere are you alright."

Shaking her head slightly she saw that the Imperial, as he called himself, was looking at here with worried eyes. Realizing that she dozed off again she stood back at attention. She must really stop doing that, it was what? The third time today she fell into a doze.

"Pa.. Pardon me." She meekly said. Her self-esteem plummeting as her lack of a familiar sunk into her heart.

"I asked are you all right Miss Valliere?"

"Oh… ah… I'm fine, really just thinking my familiar." She snapped her hands to her mouth. Did she just really just say that?

"Famil- Oh that" Arlerus realized.

Colbert rubbed his chin in thought. He had completely forgotten about that during everything else that happened today.

"You don't have one right? So why don't I teach you how to get one?" asked Arlerus.

Louise stared at him. "But… but the rules say I can't summon again."

She looked to Colbert for confirmation and was not disappointed. "Well yes the rules do say that and it is tradition for a mage to only have one familiar. After all they are intended to be your life long companions and partners."

"Well, what I have in mind will be more like a temporary summoning. It won't last as long, depending on how much magicka, or willpower, you call it here but since she's worried I don't mind teaching it. It'll give me something to do for the rest of the day anyway." Pressed Arlerus.

Colbert looked to the Headmaster as Osmond had a thoughtful look on his face. "Well, I don't see why not. It would give us a chance to see your magic in action anyhow. Of course Miss Valliere has to agree first."

Now he looked at her as he waited for her answer.

Should she? If she didn't she wouldn't have a familiar. If she did then she still wouldn't have a proper familiar but even a temporary one would be better than none.

The choice was rather obvious.

* * *

"Again" she muttered as she held her palm in front of her.

Louise once again tried the Conjure Familiar spell. The purple energy swirled inside her hands as she harnessed the magic. But like the other times it slipped out of her hands leaving her more and more exhausted.

When they had first tried the spell after meeting the Headmaster, Louise was literally bouncing with glee once she saw her magic didn't blow up in her face. The dark purple energy had gathered into her palm and she felt glorious. Finally she could cast magic.

Unfortunately her enjoyment at being able to cast magic had ruined her concentration causing the energy to explode in her hands. While it didn't hurt her in any way, it did leave her exhausted.

Arlerus had expressed surprise at how fast she got this. While it was only a novice level spell it normally still took at least a few days to gather the magicka especially for beginner mages which Louise was.

Unwilling to let a setback as small as this stop her she kept practicing, each time the magic dissipated only made her more determined. The magic she longed for was finally within her grasp and even if it was exhausting she was set on being able to use it by tonight.

Now it was dusk and most of the earlier students who had watched in amusement had long gone back to their quarters. Zerbst had surprisingly offered encouragement, or at least it could be encouragement as it could also be interpreted as an insult but had otherwise left her in peace.

Even Arlerus had left to get dinner, promising to bring some back for her while she pressed on.

Once again she tried. The purple energy staying in her hand noticeably longer than when she began but otherwise the result stayed the same. Louise groaned in disappointment, she just couldn't grasp the part where you had to hold it and throw it out of her hand.

Generating the power was easy. Putting it into her hand was relatively simple. But she just couldn't keep it there much less throw it at the ground.

"So how's the progress going Miss Valliere."

Turning around she spotted the Thane returning, his face content from eating his full. Beside him was a maid, holding a plate of steaming bread.

Louise's stomach rumbled loudly as it proclaimed its emptiness. She blushed in embarrassment when Arlerus grinned. Even the maid looked like she was trying not to look smile.

"Here, you should eat. There's no need to train nonstop. You've already made more progress than most I've seen. I think that deserves a break."

Louise took the plate off the maid as she began to wolf down the bread. Her hunger from missing out both lunch and dinner evident.

Arlerus still looked amused before turning to the maid. "Well, then Miss Siesta thanks for your help."

Seista bowed. "You're welcome my lord."

Arlerus frowned at the title. "Don't call me that, I'm not of noble blood. I'm more like a knight than a noble really."

Louise at first ignored the words before realising the implications of them. He wasn't a noble. Then how was he able to cast magic?

Voicing her question Arlerus looked at her confused. "Why do I need to be a noble to use magic?"

The maid was shocked now, just realizing what she meant. "Only nobles can cast magic. That's why the Founder gave it to the nobles, so they can lead the commoners."

Realisation dawned on Arlerus's face. "Ah that's right your Brimir gave you magic"

Looking at Louise "But you forget that we're not from your world, so the same rules don't apply. In Cyrodiil magic is limited only by the will to learn, though money and talent help a lot."

"But then how do your nobles lead if they don't have magic?" asked Siesta, confusion on her face. Louise nodded at the question, obviously also wanting to know.

The Imperial chuckled. "Some nobles are mages; there was once a Count Hassildor who was a powerful sorcerer, back during the Oblivion Crisis. But otherwise nobles rule because they tend to have the biggest army and the most backing from the populace."

"An army of soldiers and mages make a convincing argument to your right to rule after all."

Louise and Siesta slowly nodded at this seeing the strange logic in it.

Satisfied, Arlerus looked at Siesta. "Now that you brought it up, why don't you join Louise in learning how to conjure a familiar." It was more of a statement than a question as Siesta looked very surprised by the offer.

"But I'm not a noble, I don't have magic." Siesta argued.

Arlerus sighed. "Did you not listen, magic is limited only by ones will to learn. There's nothing stopping you to learn magic."

Louise interjected at his. "It's heresy for a commoner to learn magic though, and Brimir only gave magic to the nobles, commoners shouldn't even have the willpower to cast magic"

"We don't have a Brimir, and the Nine Divines don't discriminate. As for whether she had magicka or not, well we'll have to try to find out."

Louise could only watch as the Thane drilled the still confused Siesta though the same steps he gave her. When she managed to do accomplish what she couldn't do after hours of practice on her first attempt and a ghostly wolf materialised she was scared.

After Arlerus had assured them that it was in fact not a ghost and this was not necromancy, the maid stared at her familiar in shock. She nervously petted it and the wolf reacted like a tamed dog. Arlerus was muttering something about the number of geniuses here while the maid, getting over her fear of the ghostly wolf, was now interacting with it not unlike how the second years were treating their own familiars in the afternoon.

Seeing this Louise got coldly angry. Not at the maid, who's new familiar seemed to mock her failures. Not a her temporary teacher who was now busy telling Siesta how he had to bring her back to that academy of theirs to study and how talent like hers could not be wasted as a servant.

No she was angry at herself for not doing better. Angry that she let herself get beaten by a commoner. Angry at herself for not trying harder. This anger fuelled her strength and will.

All thoughts of how this was heresy left her head. She made a promise. She would master this spell if it was the last thing she did. As a noble she couldn't allow a commoner to best her that easily. She was going to do this or die trying she swore to herself.

* * *

**Siesta doing better than Louise is just a fluke, nothing else. I'm assuming that Louise will be trying to hard which will affect her ability to cast while Siesta will be much more relaxed when doing it as she isn't really expecting it to work and is just playing along with a 'noble'.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Well Ceograch that is indeed troublesome. I'll just assume they get magicka somehow anyway; maybe they're in the same solar system and share the same sun and stars? It'll be one of those questions that troubles you but you just don't ask like 'Where do Pokemon trainers get their meat?' As you said, it's a crossover and stuff happens. :P**

**And here's the traditional duel with Guiche, with him losing as usual.**

**Also Louise did indeed summon the entire hold not just the Winterhold city. Since most people back then lived in rural areas, farming, fishing, hunting,etc, the city would have a fairly low population. Also most of the soldiers of Winterhold wouldn't actually be stationed within the city but in castles and forts throughout the Hold.**

**How many people there are exactly in Winterhold I'm not sure but I have estimates that number well into the tens of thousands as benefiting a prospering Hold that I made Winterhold be.**

**I forgot to put this in last chapter but the same applies anyway.**

**Disclaimer: Zero no Tsukaima belongs to Noboru Yamaguchi (May he RIP) and Skyrim belongs to Bethseda.**

* * *

Louise awoke to the chirps of the morning birds. Rubbing her eyes she sat up on her bed. Glancing to her left she saw a spectral wolf stoically standing guard near her bed. She smiled at the sight.

It was nearing midnight before she finally got the spell. Arlerus had kindly stayed with her and offered advice. He said he was used to long nights and Louise was grateful for his help.

Siesta's familiar had disappeared within an hour; while hers had remained throughout the entire night. According to Arlerus; familiars are not permanently bound to the physical plane and should fade away within minutes of summoning; unless you bound it to something.

Her familiar had remained despite having nothing bounding her and Arlerus was stumped.

While the wolf was completely docile and harmless, unless she bid otherwise, it was still a predator. She could already imagine the looks of her classmates when she proudly strode into the Alviss Hall, her new familiar trailing behind her.

Giddy with excitement and anticipation she quickly dressed herself. Louise rushed down to the Alviss Hall where everyone was gathering for breakfast. Already more than a few servants and students she passed by; exclaimed in shock at the ghostly wolf that escorted her.

The door to the hall was open and the warm aroma of food could be smelt from outside. Louise proudly entered the room, her new familiar trailing behind her.

The ones seated closest to the door saw her and became silent as they stared. The silence then spread throughout the hall as everyone saw her.

Louise sat on her chair, happy to have proven she did have a familiar. Her day was made; there was nothing that could ruin it.

This was challenged when Kirche entered the room and made a beeline straight for her. The quiet Tabitha followed her, her eyes never leaving her book.

Kirche faltered slightly when she laid eyes on her familiar and Louise smiled. This smile disappeared when a similar smile formed on Kirche's lips.

"Louise my dear, you finally managed it! Well done." Kirche cheered.

Despite the praise Louise had a sneaking suspicion that that wasn't all Kirche wanted to say.

"Though you can't have your wolf in here remember."

Louise cursed. She forgot that familiars were meant to be left outside.

"So why don't you let your temporary familiar go. The poor things probably suffering just being near you." Kirche finished.

"S… Shut up Zerbst!" Now losing all her earlier confidence, Louise sulkily commanded her familiar to leave the hall. The wolf looked almost like it nodded before it left the hall.

With its exit noise returned back to the hall, as people started talking again. Louise glared at Kirche who was smiling triumphantly.

"Good morning Miss Louise" turning her attention away from Kirche she saw Arlerus had managed to get behind her without her noticing. One of the soldiers from yesterday accompanied him as he took a seat next to them.

"So did your familiar really last till morning?" Asked Arlerus.

Reminded of her extraordinary achievement, or it was according to the Imperial, Louise nodded confidently.

"And there haven't been any side effects? Drowsiness? Fatigue? Anything?"

"Nope I feel fine" replied Louise.

Beside him the battlemage had a surprised look which Arlerus shared. "Well I'm impressed. I didn't think it was possible to maintain a familiar for that long without bounding it to something. You must have large magicka; excuse me I mean willpower reserves."

Kirche joined into their conversation. "So it's not normal for this to happen."

Arlerus looked at her. "No I'm afraid; so I don't know if there is any repercussions which is why I'm asking about Miss Louise's health, Miss…."

Kirche straightened herself, flaunting her large assets, much to the chagrin of Louise.

"Kirche Augusta Frederica Von-Anhalt-Zerbst." She finished for him.

Arlerus nodded, unaffected by her seduction. "A pleasure, I am Arlerus Jurulonus. Thane of Winterhold."

Turning his eyes to Tabitha he asked. "And you milady?"

Tabitha took her eyes off her book and spared a glance at Arlerus before uttering her name. "Tabitha"

Arlerus waited for the rest of the long name that nobles seemed to favour here. When it was not forthcoming he awkwardly turned away.

"Well, Miss Kirche, I-"

He was interrupted by a large outburst from another table. Turning around he saw Siesta standing timidly as a blonde youngster was yelling at her. Two other girls were seen angrily stomping out of the hall.

"Thanks to you thoughtlessly picking up some bottle of perfume, the reputation of two ladies has been damaged. How will you take responsibility?" The blonde accused as he tried to salvage his reputation after two timing.

Siesta, scared and unable to defend herself, just stood there as she weathered his anger.

Arlerus seeing this, got off his seat and walked up to back up Siesta, his housecarl followed him.

"I…I'm s…sorry my lord. Please forgive me." Siesta managed to get out.

"Listen, maid. When you put the bottle of perfume on the table, I pretended not to know anything, didn't I? Would it have hurt to be a little bit tactful and just go along with it?" shouted Guiche.

The blonde looked ready to yell again before Arlerus stood behind Siesta and placed a hand on her shoulder to calm her. His housecarl stood behind him, his hand on the hilt of his blade.

"You made your point boy. Besides you should be ashamed for tricking two ladies into courting with you. If anything the blame lies with you not Miss Siesta." Arlerus said.

"Exactly Guiche, it's your fault." Guiche's friends shouted behind him.

Guiche, while slightly cowed by the foreigner, would not back down. His honour was at stake here.

"You are that commoner came with the Zero yesterday. You obviously don't know how to properly address a noble." Guiche snorted.

"I see no noble here. Only an idiot boy who doesn't want to admit he's wrong." Replied Arlerus calmly.

Guiche narrowed his eyes. "Very well then I will teach you a lesson about respect. If you have the courage to meet me in combat then come to the Vestri Court and we'll settle it there, commoner."

Arlerus hesitated. He was soon to be representing Winterhold and while he was certain he could annihilate the blonde in front of him; he didn't want to hinder the meeting by beating a noble here."

Guiche saw this and smirked. "What are you now understanding your position commoner?"

His housecarl seeing and understanding his dilemma stepped forward. "My Thane, I am your sword and shield, so I shall fight in your place."

Shaking his head Arlerus denied him his request to fight for him. "No, he challenged me to this and I will accept."

"So you do have courage at least. We'll see how long that lasts." Said Guiche. With that he left the Alviss Hall, his friends following him.

Siesta looked up to Arlerus; a mixture of thanks and concern in her eyes. Seeing her worry Arlerus waved her off. "I'll be fine. I'm more worried about the boy."

Nodding slightly she seemed to regain some of her composure. By then Louise, Kirche and Tabitha had made their way to join them.

"Are you really going to duel Guiche?" asked Louise, not in the least worried about his safety.

"Well I've never been one to turn down a challenge so yes. Now Miss Siesta could you please show me this Vestri Court."

"Ah, yes please follow me." She said as she led him outside. The others following close behind.

* * *

"Old Osmond! Old Osmond!" Colbert yelled as he entered the headmasters office. He arrived at an inconvenient time as Miss Loungueville was in the process of stomping on his body.

"And take that… you old… perverted… man" grunted Miss Loungueville between kicks.

"Um… Am I interrupting something?"

"No, not at all. I'm just reminding the Headmaster that there are some things you do not do." Reassured Loungueville as she drove her foot deep into Osmond's back. The Headmaster gave a dying scream as he fell limp.

Loungueville removed her foot and returned to her desk. Osmond lay there for a moment before picking himself off the floor; rubbing his sore back as he did so.

"Now, Colbert was it? What is it?" he asked once he seated himself back on his desk.

Remembering what he was here for he startled. "Ah, yes. There's a duel starting soon and me and the other staff are requesting to use the 'Bell of Sleep' to stop it.

"For heaven's sake, There's nothing worse than children with too much time on their hands. So who's involved?"

"That's the problem sir. Guiche de Gramont challenged Arlerus Jurulonos to a duel. We can't just stop them because Gramont managed to insult him and it's now a matter of honour."

"Arlerus Juro- what? Who's he?" asked Osmond in confusion.

Colbert resisted the urge to shout at the headmaster. "The foreigner you met yesterday."

Realization dawned on Osmond's face. "Ah yes. Now I remember him. Quite a polite young man."

Picking up his staff Colbert walked towards the large mirror in his room. Colbert followed him while Loungueville watched closely. "Now there's no reason to interrupt. I believe that young Arlerus can understand that killing a noble, even a forth son, will cause problems."

Waving his staff; the mirror began to show the Vestri Court in its glass. Guiche could be seen standing inside a ring of onlookers. Arlerus was also spotted entering the ring, Siesta walking by him.

"I saw him teaching Miss Valleire some magic too. I believe this might be a good chance to get an even better look at these mages of Winterhold."

* * *

Guiche was waiting for him at the court. A ring of spectators were gathering and already placing bets. Unfortunately for Guiche the bets favoured Arlerus as the winner.

Many had seen him trying to teach Louise some magic and were aware that he was a mage. While his magic was unlike any they have seen before; they had no illusions about his skill. Sadly Guiche was not one of these, spending most of yesterday night flirting with Katie. So he was unaware of the skills that the older man could bring to the duel.

Arlerus now stood opposite him, having just arrived. Guiche smirked. This would be a quick fight. His Valkyries would show the faker the price of insolence.

"Well I commend you for coming instead of running away" Guiche remarked as he lifted his rose wand.

"It's rather hard to be afraid of you using a rose as a weapon." Replied Arlerus earning him a few laughs.

Guiche glared in anger."Right then let us begin!"

"Wait… Wait" said Arlerus waving his hands.

"What? Backing out now are you commoner?" asked Guiche.

"No, I just want to know the conditions of the duel? First blood or until one us is unable to continue?" asked Arlerus.

"The latter." Answered Guiche.

"Right then, lets start." Holding out his right hand, a shimmering blade materialized in his hand.

His use of magic did not come as a surprise to most but Guiche faltered for a bit before he remembered to cast his own magic.

He flicked his rose and 4 petals fell towards the ground. Only to become metal 4 Valkyries standing stoically in front of him. They were unarmed and appeared to be made of bronze. _So, he's underestimating me._ Thought Arlerus.

Arlerus whistled. "A neat trick to impress women. But do you really need to them to fight for you? I though a man fought his own in front of his woman not the other way around." he taunted.

Indignant Guiche commanded his Valkyries to charge. They responded immediately; rushing towards the Imperial at a speed that would have caught an untrained or inexperienced man off guard.

Arlerus was neither as he generated an icy spear into his left hand. Releasing it at the lead Valkyrie he rushed to meet their charge, unleashing a battle cry as he did so.

The spear of ice went straight through the Valkyrie's chest, its bronze body unable to stand against the magically sharpened ice spear, allowing it to hit the one following it; knocking both out of the fight as they fell apart.

The two remaining Valkyrie continued. The one now in front lifted its fist to punch him which he dodged effortlessly, his bound blade cutting through it like cheese. The last Valkyrie retreated back to Guiche where he had summoned another Valkyrie using his last petal.

Arlerus let the Valkyrie fall apart beside him. His bounded blade disappeared as he began to leisurely walk towards Guiche.

Frightened by how his Valkyries were taken out so easily he shaped blades into his last remaining Valkyries. "Stop him!" he shouted.

The pair of Valkyries approached him, cautiously this time, brandishing sharpened blades. Arlerus smirked, purple energy swelled in his hand again as he prepared to summon. Seeing this the two Valkyries struck before he could finish.

Now the Imperial was smiling as he dodged backwards, avoiding the swift swings that would have otherwise cut through his chest. The two had moved predictably where he wanted them, with them this close they couldn't dodge.

His hand got a lot hotter as flames appeared within his clenched hands. Thrusting them towards the two Valkyries he unleashed a torrent of flames so hot that it melted the two metal automatons.

Paying no heed to his handiwork, Arlerus advanced on Guiche again; who was at this stage panicking. He had not been expecting much competition or that the 'commoner' was actually a noble.

He backed away from the man, who had so easily destroyed his precious Valkyries. "No…No Stay way." Guiche pleaded.

Miraculously the man stopped and gave him a malicious smile. He did not like the look of that at all.

The same purple energy generating in his hands marked another summoning. Guiche turned pale as he observed Arlerus send a ball of energy to the ground, only to give way for a monstrosity.

It was feminine in appearance but where skin and blood should be was instead replaced by fire and black metal. A demon from the fiery hells was what he had summoned and by the Founder it was getting closer to him.

Guiche turned to run but tripped on his own legs in his rush. During his fall he saw from the corner of his eye; the Imperial casting another spell on him, but he had no time to think on it when his face met the ground.

Before he could pick himself back up, he felt the scorching heat emitting from the fire demon behind him.

Slowly turning around he saw the face of the creature. Half of its face was nothing but red and orange fire that danced within the black frame that held it together. But it was the other half that got his attention.

He could see the lips of the demon on the black metal that made up its lower face. He could see the cruel smile that promised to bring him into a world of pain and suffering. The entire Vestri Court and its onlookers had disappeared at this point leaving him alone with the flaming monster.

The very sky seemed to have turned dark as it edged closer and closer to him. Distant screams of agony only hinted at what he was going to be put through.

He could also feel moisture in his pants and then he felt nothing at all as it poked him in the head with its talon.

Guiche screamed before fainting and falling over. The Flame Atronach seeing that the fight was finished dematerialized back to Oblivion.

Arlerus was standing over his unconscious body. He wrinkled his nose as the smell of the noble soiling his pants in fear reached him.

"Well, this means I win; Mister Guiche." He stated. He made a mock of a bow towards his downed opponent before retreating back to where his companions were watching him in awe.

Siesta and Louise were looking at him in awe, no doubt impressed by his overwhelming power. Tabitha was no longer reading her book but watching him with a calculating eye, her blank face giving away none of her thoughts.

Kirche was watching him more closely now. Her intense scrutiny disturbing him a little, especially since her gaze was more focussed on the more private parts of the body.

His housecarl was stoically standing behind the ground. His face was unreadable as usual. He nodded in acknowledgement of the battle and gave a short congratulation to Arlerus.

"Well Miss Siesta, I doubt this Guiche will be bothering you again. If he does just tell me and I'll see what I can do."

Siesta blushed as she thanked him. "Thank you, Sir Arlorus. You didn't need to go so far for me though."

"Nonsense. I hope this demonstration had changed your mind about my offer from yesterday."

Siesta shook her head. "I'm afraid I can't accept."

"Well that's a shame but I understand. If you ever change your mind though, don't hesitate to ask. Your talent in conjuration would be a huge asset to the College. Even if I'm not a member there anymore; I can put in a good word for you there."

Being out of context, Louise asked what they were talking about.

"Ah my apologies Miss Valliere. I suggested to Miss Siesta that she should join the College of Winterhold. With talent like hers she would have little trouble attaining a sponsoring for a place in the College."

"Why could a commoner need to go to a college?" asked Kirche as she drew far closer than was necessary to Arlerus.

The Imperial ignored her sudden closeness as he answered. "The magic system from Tamriel is different from yours here."

"Everyone has some magicka within them. It's just that most don't have the ability or the will to actually shape it to their will. So in short terms it means even commoners here can cast magic."

Kirche took it far better than Louise or Siesta had. She didn't seem to care too much about how it goes against the teachings of the Church, though it could be attributed to the less rigid Germania mentality.

Tabitha was likewise unaffected by the revelation. But then the young blue haired girl seemed to be unaffected by anything so far and displayed no emotions aside from the black look she had; or at least not openly.

Louise already knew of his people's strange ways and decided not to question it. He was kind enough to teach her some of their magic after all. So who was she to question it?

However what she didn't understand was why the maid was taking advantage of this offer. For a commoner to learn magic. It was unheard of and should be an honour.

She turned to the maid, who was glaring at Kirche, whose breasts were now pressing against Arlerus's arms, with jealousy in her eyes. Obviously Kirche now had competition.

"Maid, why don't you take up the offer? What could possibly be more important than learning magic? It's a chance in a lifetime." Louise asked, voicing her question.

Siesta unwilling turned her gaze away to face the pinked haired girl. "Forgive me my lady, but I need the money I get from the Academy for my family back in Tarbes."

Upon hearing this, Arlerus gave a big smile. Shaking off Kirche he addressed Siesta again. "If money is the issue then the College can come to compromise. Archmage Motabe would probably be willing to pay you to get you in the College."

Siesta looked shocked at this as the Imperial continued. "He's always looking for new talent and has a plenty of gold and other trinkets stored away somewhere from his adventuring days. I suspect he's hoping someone new would take his place, he getting quite old now; even for a Bosmer."

Somehow this was sounding familiar to his listeners. A head of a school, who is old and has a chamber to stow away his old things.

"He's quite a serious old man now but I heard he was quite the womanizer too in his youth. Don't underestimate him though he was powerful enough to match the dragons and their priests." Continued Arlerus, unaware that he was now going off topic.

Yes, this did seem strikingly familiar. A powerful elderly magician who was now running a school. That happened to have has a treasure trove of trinkets from his adventuring days and was a womanizer in his youth.

Out of respect for him, they young girls did not mention his name to the Imperial who, finally noticing his error, stopped talking.

"My apologies. I like telling tales and tend to get carried away when I start one. Now what was I… Ah right. I'm sure Archmage Motabe would be willing to sponsor you into the College; he has done so in the past for extremely talented students."

The Imperial frowned as he got caught up in his train of thought. "You don't accept Septims here in Halkengenia do you? No… well I suppose he could just give you gold or something but…"

* * *

Colbert sighed as the Headmaster went back to fondling Miss Loungueville, only to receive yet another beating.

The description of the 'Bosmer' he had met in the city seemed nothing like what the real article was. They way he was described resembled the Headmaster greatly but he just couldn't imagine Motabe being like Osmond.

Though, he supposed, Old Osmond could be serious when he wanted to. It was just unfortunately that those were rare moments. _Were Headmasters everywhere like this? _he asked no one in particular.

The loud cry of pain and the sound of Osmond scrapping back to sit on his chair alerted him to the end of Miss Loungueville's 'treatment' of her employer.

"Well Old Osmond. What did you think of that?" asked Colbert. While he had been concerned for his student, Osmond proved right in that the Imperial would not cause real harm. The only damage dealt was to Gramont's pride which was inconsequential compared to his health.

"That was quite a painful experience. Miss Loungueville will have quite some trouble finding a husband if she keeps being so frigid." Replied Osmond. Obviously talking about his 'treatment' from earlier which now threatened to continue as Miss Loungueville got out of her chair again.

"As for the duel, it was quite interesting." Quickly continued Osmond, trying to escape the imminent attack.

Thankfully she stopped and gave only a sigh before returning to her desk. The Headmaster gave a sigh of relief. A small mouse then chose that moment to break from cover and it made a mad dash to the Headmaster's secretary's desk.

"Young Arlerus was quite the water mage, definitely Line class maybe even Triangle ; since he wasn't actually trying."

Colbert agreed with his assessment. The Imperial had displayed some impressive magic and had showed some skill with blades. However it was the 'thing' he brought forth that both concerned and befuddled him.

"And the creature he brought forth? Do you suppose that it was his familiar?" he asked.

Osmond seemed to give his question some thought before answering. "No, I saw him teaching the Valliere yesterday to summon a ghost wolf. He said that was a basic spell so I suppose that the fire creature was some higher level spell."

Colbert nodded. That made sense. "If there's nothing else Headmaster, then I'll get back to my work."

"Ah, yes. Tell Mister Jurulonus that the Princess has been delayed and is likely to arrive tomorrow instead of today."

Colbert was about to ask how he knew that before he remembered the Headmaster had a scrying glass. "Yessir I'll tell him immedia-"

He was cut off by a cry of shock from Miss Loungueville which then turned more menacing. The secretary advanced on the Headmaster, her hand holding a mouse by its tail.

Already knowing what was coming Colbert left without another word. The cries from the room cut off as he closed the door.

* * *

**I'm starting to regret giving my OC a last name. It's rather hard to remember.**


	4. Chapter 4

**I just realized I've been incorrectly spelling "Tristain" as "Tristan". Can't believe it took me this long to pick up on that, Wow.**

**I'm not too confident on how I wrote this and so I may edit or change this in the future.**

**(Edit: Just added in a missing line breaker and fixed some errors.)**

* * *

Siesta was giddy the next morning. Arlerus said that the College accepted only the best and brightest, and was willing to give out payments to those who had the skill but not the money. Who does that?

While Arlerus couldn't be sure; he said he was confident that she could get a sponsor from the Archmage.

Learning magic was something she never expected to do. Most of her life had been focused on helping her family and looking after her siblings.

But now, the Imperial said that he could send some of the sponsorship money back to her family while she studied the Clever Craft. After yesterday's duel, there was no doubt that the magic to be learned was powerful. And the Imperial said he wasn't even a master only barely an adept at magic.

While she didn't know whether she should agree or not; she was now leaning towards accepting. The problem was if she wasn't accepted then she would lose all source of income and her family would fall into financial difficulty. That and she didn't know how much she would get from the sponsorship, though Arlerus said something about gold nuggets yesterday.

"Siesta, where are those plates?" hearing Marteau call out to her, broke her out of her thoughts. She saw that she was still holding the plates for the breakfast service in her hands and had been standing still for the last few minutes.

Blushing slightly at her mistake she hurried back into the kitchen. She wondered offhandedly what her saviour, Arlerus was doing.

* * *

Arlerus stepped out of the temporary quarters that he and his entourage had been given. While he and his Housecarl were obviously given the better rooms, the rest of his men slept comfortably.

According the Professor Colbert; Princess Henreitta was arriving today alongside Cardinal Mazarin. She had been informed of Tristan's new residents, if the large snowy land that appeared wasn't enough of a clue, though whether she knew of their presence here was unknown.

He had dressed himself as finely as he could and prepared to leave. His men, wearing their shined and hastily cleaned armour followed him towards the main building.

There was a crowd near the gate. Students, staff, servants were mingled together to catch a glimpse of the Princess of Tristan. The crowd parted to allow his group to pass through. Enough had seen the duel yesterday to know that the Thane was not to be trifled with.

Arlerus and his grey warriors stood near the doors to the main building. The headmaster was already there and paid no heed to his arrival.

"Good morning to you Headmaster Osmond." Greeted Arlerus politely.

"And to you, Sir Jurulonus" acknowledged Osmond.

While he and Osmond engaged in petty conversation, his guards stood in formal position behind him.

Finally a large cheer near the gate signalled the arrival of the Royal party.

An escort of riders led the procession. Their black capes fluttered with the wind as they entered the Academy. From the chatter, Arlerus identified them as the Imperial Guards of Tristan. They were the elite mage knights that were Tristan's symbol of prosperity.

He chuckled slightly as he compared Tristan's with the Empires. These black cape wearing nobles did not even resembled the cold hard Imperial Guards he remembered from Tamriel.

Four white stallions with golden manes followed next. No, not stallions, they were Unicorns, realized Arlerus with surprise.

The majestic beasts were a rare sight in Tamriel and only the best of trackers and adventurers could even dream of sneaking up to mount it. To have found four of the beasts and tamed them was most impressive.

The unicorns led an ornate carriage behind it. It was adjourned with gold, silver and platinum sculptures; all masterfully crafted into the white wood of the carriage. The most prominent of these being a unicorn crossed with a crystal staff that marked the carriage as the Princesses.

Behind her carriage came a second carriage, less decorated, but magnificent to look at nevertheless. More black riders followed in its wake; acting as the rear guard.

The procession stopped in front of the main hall.

"Her Royal Highness of the Kingdom of Tristan, Princess Henrietta has arrived!" announced a herald.

Osmond walked down to greet the Princess while he just waited. He had no idea what was expected of him in this different culture and cursed himself for not asking earlier.

It would be rude to be too presumptuous and greet the Princess first. Deciding that waiting for a more private opportunity to greet her would be better. For now he would just wait as people cheered for the Princess.

An old man dressed in extravagant robes descended out of the back carriage. He walked up to the first carriage and opened the door for the Princess. As she appeared the cheering renewed itself as Henrietta waved to the people gathered around the carriages.

As she and the Cardinal made their way towards the Academy Building, their Imperial Guards marching smartly behind them, Arlerus made his move.

Stepping forward he stood in front of the princess and gave a deep bow from the waist. "Honours to you; Princess Henrietta De Tristain. I am Arlerus Jurulonus, Thane of Winterhold and I am here to discuss the matter of my Hold appearing within the territories of Tristan."

The Princess was slightly surprised by this and was unsure how to respond to the strange greeting but recovered immediately. "And to you Thane Jurulonus." She responded politely.

The Headmaster quickly ushered them in, eager to get them out of public eye to begin more important talks. He noticed that he stayed near the Princess and the Cardinal, conversing with them throughout the journey.

The Imperial managed to pick up some of the words being said and putting it together it appeared that he was telling the two about recent events involving Winterhold's appearance.

He led them to an empty classroom that had been turned into a meeting room of sorts. The desks and chairs were replaced by a large table with several more regal seats situated around it.

The guards from both sides were left outside the door, being unable to all fit in the room. This left only Arlerus, his Housecarl, Henrietta, Cardinal Mazarin and one of her guard captains who introduced himself as Viscount Wardes. Old Osmond sat in the middle of the table acting as an observer and mediator if need be.

Mazarin took it upon himself to start the long discussion that was to follow. "The Headmaster has kindly informed us about your situation and while I sympathize with you and your situation; I have to ask to what you and your people are planning to do."

"The College will, or already has; research means to reverse whatever magic brought us here to Tristan. Outside of that, we have no clue. This land is unknown to us so we have no immediate plans beyond making contact with the local leaders." Responded Arlerus quickly, having expected the question.

"That is fine and well, but there is the matter of all this new land and how it has affected Tristain." Said Mazarin in a grim tone.

"The land that your Winterhold now covers has extended the usual distance it takes to travel between locations. Our own delayed arrival is an example of this. This has caused many problems; especially among the nobles, whose lands are now separated by frozen tundra" The Cardinal stretched out the part about problems.

Arlerus grimaced. "We did not want to be called here. It is confirmed that one of your own students was responsible for our predicament."

Though he didn't want to place Miss Louise into trouble, his first duty was to Winterhold and its Jarl and only by extension the Empire. "Miss Valliere was the one responsible for calling us here during your Springtime Summoning."

The Princess was surprised upon hearing the involvement of her childhood friend. "What about Louise?" she asked worriedly.

"Miss Louise called the entirety of Winterhold, city and hold, as part of the traditional ritual you call the Springtime Familiar Summoning. The Academy has promised its aid in supporting our efforts to reverse the spell and return us to Skyrim, our home."

"And how many people are there exactly in Winterhold?" asked Mazarin.

"I lack exact numbers but I suspect there are approximately 110000 within the city itself with another 50000 throughout the Hold in villages."

That was no small number. Winterhold was one of the most prosperous cities within cities in Skyrim, trailing after Whiterun, Solitude and Windhelm.

As a result of its cold climate and dangerous predators, many stayed within the boundaries of the city. The few large settlements outside the city and within the hold were few and were situated near the mines or by the Wayward Pass.

Winterhold relied greatly on trading its 'magical' goods for foodstuff that they could not produce themselves. Potions, curatives, herbs, books, enchanted trinkets were traded for meat, crops and gol within Winterhold.

Now without its usual imports of supplies, they would soon have to tighten their belt straps. That was one of the main goals that the Jarl had entrusted him.

The granaries and stockpiles only had enough food to last the city a year; and that was if they rationed it. Arlerus would have to negotiate some form of trade agreement with Tristain.

"That is… no small number." Muttered Mazarin.

"Yes, which is why I must ask whether Tristain is willing to trade with us." Admitted Arlerus.

"And what exactly are you proposing to trade?"

"Food. Enough to feed the Hold for our stay here. I admit feeding that many mouths will be costly, so we are willing to trade our own unique goods for it." Stated Arlerus.

"And what type of goods could possibly interest us?" asked an interested Mazarin.

"Winterhold is most famous for the College of Winterhold and the number of mages residing within. So of course our goods are of the magical kind. Healing potions that can close wounds instantly, enchanted equipment and even the services of our mages."

Mazarin went into deep thought for a moment. He turned to the Princess briefly and conferred with her. They spoke softly and sadly Arlerus couldn't hear what they were talking about; but he could guess what it was about anyway.

The Princess nodded at some point and took over the negotiations. Mazarin reclining back into his chair, content to let her highness take over. "And how many mages are there exactly within Winterhold, Sir Jurulonus."

"There are around 2500 members of the College of Winterhold." The Tristainians were surprised, they had expected only a number into the few hundreds not the thousands.

Were there that many nobles within this Winterhold?

"Of course that is only registered members of the College. There are maybe another 4000 to 5000 mages of varying degrees of skill residing within Winterhold, not affiliated with the College.

Now they were impressed. That was more mages than most Tristain had itself.

"There might be more outside the city, but I'm not aware of how many there are. Though there might be so-" Arlerus broke off his own sentence before scratching his head in embarrassment.

"Ah. My apologies your highness, I tend to ramble on. There are approximately 7000 mages within the Winterhold, give or take a thousand." He concluded.

"Now, are there any other questions I can answer or can we return to trade?"

"Yes, Sir Jurulonus. You mentioned healing potions that could heal instantly and enchanted items. Could we see examples of such items. You see we have healing potions of our own, and though none can claim to heal wounds instantly they serve us well enough." Henrietta asked.

Arlerus smiled. "The Archmage had kindly provided us with some of these said items. I would be happy to show you the effects of Winterhold's speciality items."

His Housecarl stepped out of the room and whispered something to one of the Winterhold soldiers outside. The man in question nodded to the quiets instructions and rushed off.

He returned minutes later, out of breath, carrying a crate that was covered in cloth. The Housecarl carefully relieved the container from the exhausted man and laid it onto the table; before returning to stand behind his Thane.

Arlerus reached into the box and brought out a vial containing a red concoction. This is a healing potion, it works simply by pouring it over ones wounds. If I may I will demonstrate."

The Princess nodded her assent and Arlerus pulled out a small knife. Wardes stiffened, his hand sliding down to his sword wand but Arlerus directed the blade to his own arm.

With a quick slash and a grimace of pain, he cut a gash into his forearm; blood flowed freely from the wound. Henrietta was slightly nauseous at the sight of blood but watched in quiet fascination as the wound closed itself when the Imperial poured crimson liquid over the wound.

Flesh seemed to knit itself back together as the gash closed. Once the process was finished, there was not even a scar to indicate there was a wound in the first place.

Arlerus smiled. He had them with the potion. Judging by their reactions, whatever potions they had here could not produce the same results as the ones common in Tamriel could.

"Healing potions are not the only thing we can make. There are also potions that restore energy, ones that make your stronger, ones that make you invisible and so on."

Not giving the Tristainians time to recover; he pressed on. "And this is an example of an enchanted item." He pulled out another dagger from the container.

This one was finely made and a blue aura could be seen on the metal. He stabbed it into the table, for ice to freeze over where he had inserted the blade into the wood.

"Steel Dagger of Ice and as you can see, it freezes whatever it touches with its blade." Explained Arlerus.

Again the Tristainians were surprised though Wardes, as a military man, had a more calculating look on his face; as he assessed the usefulness of such weapons.

"Of coure, enchanting is not limited to tools of war nor does it only make things more destructive. It can be applied to almost everything and there is a variety of enchantments available."

The Imperial let the Royal Party sink in the information. He had sounded more like a merchant there than a diplomat.

"What exactly do you want for such goods?" asked Henrietta at last.

"Mainly foodstuff, though raw materials would help as well." Responded Arlerus.

The Princess looked towards the Cardinal, who gave her a slight nod. Turning back to face Arlerus "How much do you want and how much of those potions and enchanted items do we get in return?" she asked.

* * *

The talks had progressed at a fast pace. The Princess had turned out to be a haggler of great skill, constantly trying to seek an advantage. Finishing off the trade and agreements they breached a more contentious another subject.

"There will be outcry from nobles whose lands were split." Reminded Henrietta again.

"And as I said before; we cannot be held responsible for something outside of our control." Arlerus maintained.

"This is not helped by your religion differing from our own. According to you there are Elves who live in Winterhold. The Church will likely want to be involved." Informed the Cardinal.

"You are free to believe in your Founder and we will not persecute you for it, mostly. I see no problem with our worship of the Nine Divines."

"It would be considered heretical for you not to worship the Founder." Mazarin warned again.

"And for me that would make you heretics for not worshiping the Nine, so that is hardly a compelling argument." Countered Arlerus.

Mazarin looked ready to continue before Henrietta interjected. "We are not trying to persecute your religion Sir Jurulonus. But there will be friction because of this."

"That is no issue. We dealt with the Thalmor for nearly a decade to regain Talos as a Divine. It would be impossible to make people stop worshipping the Nine regardless."

Henrietta still looked worried but moved on nevertheless. "Well, despite how you might deny your involvement in Winterhold's relocation. It will not stop people blaming you."

"Furthermore we cannot have a foreign nation, even if it just a province, within Tristain. It is a major threat to our security."

"So what do you propose then?" Inquired Arlerus

"The allegiance of Winterhold to the Kingdom Of Tristain." the Princess stated simply.

"Our loyalties lie with the Empire, I'm afraid."

"And we cannot leave a Hold of people, uncontested within our borders."

Arlerus pondered on this for a moment. He understood their need for national security but he didn't have the authority or power to decide this.

Looking for a compromise, he found one. "I am sure Jarl Kraldar would say the same,but I give my assurances that we will make no move against Tristain. While we cannot offer our loyalties, due to our existing allegiance to the Empire, I propose the Winterhold to be somewhat of a protectorate state under Tristain for the time being."

"And what is a protectorate?" Asked the Cardinal.

"Essentially, Winterhold will retain its sovereignty but we will adhere to Tristain in most things. It is like an alliance with Tristain being the leader."

"While we won't be subject to you, we will give generous compensation for you protection. And outside of Winterhold we will submit ourselves to your laws and the same applies for Tristainians entering Winterhold."

"Is this acceptable?" Asked Arlerus.

"It appears that Winterhold gets the better end of the deal here. What incentive do we have to accept this? This Empire is not present in Halkengenia so your oaths to it should be void, or at least till you return to your Tamriel. It would be more effective for Winterhold to integrate with Tristain rather than exist as a separate state." Pressed Mazarin; as he made to support the Princess.

Arlerus grimaced. "That will be a problem. The majority of the population within Winterhold are Nords. There are proud people and will not look kindly on switching allegiances from the Empire to a foreign nation. Heck, our new 'land' will be enough to likely cause riots at the College; demanding the mages to send them back."

"And Winterhold existing as a separate state, even if it is subservient to our own, will cause similar issues with our own people. The nobles will not accept it and the commoners will likely not either." Countered the Princess.

"Say if we merged with Tristain then. Would you guarantee our security and allow us to return to Tamriel as soon as we are able?" asked Arlerus as he played with her offer.

"If Winterhold was to swear their allegiance to Tristain, they will receive the same treatment as any other within our borders." Answered the Princess as she pounced onto this opportunity.

"And what if I told you that we have commoners who would be called a noble; going by your standards."

The Princess was confused. What did he mean by that? She looked at Mazarin and saw that he was similarly perplexed by what he had just heard.

"Could you explain what you mean by that?" she asked.

"Our magic is different to your own. While magic is limited to nobles here in Halkengenia; in Tamriel almost anyone is capable of casting magic to some level."

_Well that explained how they had so many mages. _Was the Princess's first thought_._ That they didn't have a Founder to grant them magic had crossed her mind earlier. Though she could now see why this might cause problems.

In most of Halkengenia, those who could cast magic were always nobles and were treated as such. But they had many more who had magical abilities but were not nobles. A new thought crossed her mind.

"Sir Jurulonus, is it possible for anyone to learn your magic?" she frantically asked. If so, then commoners would flock to Winterhold. If enough commoners learnt Tamriel magic then there would be unrest as the rest of the nobles would be threatened by this. Civil unrest was likely going to a problem.

"Yes, the Clever Craft is limited only by ones talents and efforts."

"I see why this is a cause for concern." Said Mazarin as he scratched his chin in thought.

"The College only accepts the best, and even then there is now a hefty enrolment fee in joining. Add on the limited spaces within the College and the fact that it's already nearly full. You don't have to worry about everyone learning magic all a sudden in Tristain." Reassured Arlerus, as he read their train of thought.

"It also takes years of constant study and hard work to get anywhere as a mage, so there won't be any immediate impacts, hopefully." He added as an afterthought.

"Founder be praised for that at least." Sighed Mazarin.

"Which brings me to a second issue: religion." Continued Arlerus.

This got the attention of the room. Mazarin and Henrietta leaned closer to hear what the Imperial had to say.

"We have the Nine Divines as our patron gods and I suppose the Daedric Princes count; seeing that some do worship them. Anyhow, from the reactions I have received so far from mentioning this; there will be some problems."

Henrietta sighed. The Church would be an issue she supposed. The Church in Romalia wouldn't accept a heathen province becoming part of Tristain. If the Imperi-

Her mind clutched onto the thought. Sir Jurulonus was an Imperial. Most of Winterhold were Nords. Never once did he call himself or of Winterhold humans.

"Sir Jurulonus, do you consider yourself a human?" she asked.

The Imperial was surprised by the sudden strange question. This was likewise shared by the rest of the occupants of the room.

"I'm afraid, I do not understand the question, Princess." he replied honestly as he tried to rationalize the confusing question.

"The Church may not accept a city of human heathens merging with Tristain. But, you Sir Jurulonus consider yourself an Imperial not a human." She explained

Arlerus finally picked up on what Henrietta was implying and smiled at her. Technically, he was human, but he didn't know anyone who would call himself that instead of a Nord or Imperial and so on.

Cardinal Mazarin was not so amused. "Princess, it is a stretch to think that the Church would give way because of such a small technicality."

"Unless you have a better idea, then this is the best way to avoid the Church's ire." Countered Henrietta.

"Well Sir Jurulonus, would Winterhold be willing to merge with Tristain, even if it is for only your duration here." She asked as she faced the, still smiling, Imperial.

The Imperial Thane stared at the Tristainian Princess. She stared right back. Finally Arlerus gave way. "Very well, I will have to return to Winterhold and get the Jarl's approval, but I expect he will accept. I'll let Thonjolf fuss over the little details."

Getting up, he made a bow to her. "It has been an honour meeting you, your highness."

As he made to leave, he stopped just before the door as he remembered something. "You may keep whatever is left in the box. Consider it a sample of Winterhold."

With that he exited the room, his burly guard followed after him.

Mazarin leaned closer to the Princess. "Princess Henrietta, do you really think that merging with them is the best idea."

She didn't look at him as she answered. "It is the most peaceful option that I can think of as of the moment."

Wardes chose this moment to speak. "Begging your pardon, but I don't understand why we have to reach a peaceful resolution to this. They have limited food, the 'Thane' admitted as much himself. Would it not be possible to allow them to starve and gain a more favourable position?"

"Captain, he also admitted that they have nearly 6000 mages. And we have no idea how many troops they can field. If they were starved and kept within their Hold, they will likely respond like a caged wolf; by striking out at their captors."

Wardes fell silent as he remembered that small fact. That many mages was nothing to laugh about.

The Princess got up to leave when light snoring got their attention. The last neutral member of the talks was still present.

The Headmaster had been present throughout the whole time and was forgotten by both parties as they discussed the future. He fell asleep about half way through, seeing that his presence wasn't really needed.

The Royal Party left the room in silence, to not disturb the respected mage in his slumber. While it was impolite and wrong to go to sleep during such important discussions. The Princess, bless her kind heart, didn't want to disturb the old mage and had silently lifted her finger to her lips to signal silence.

It was not until dinner time that someone noticed Old Osmond was missing. It was hours later that he was found by the servants coming to clean the room. By then he was slouched into an uncomfortable position while he slept.

Afraid of disturbing him, the servants quickly and quietly finished their duties and condemned the Headmaster to his secretary that was unfortunately left with all the paperwork that he was meant to do today.

* * *

**Again, I'm not too confident on how I wrote this so any advice would be greatly appreciated.**


	5. Chapter 5

**I figured out why I wasn't confident about the previous chapter now. Like some reviews said there just wasn't enough conflict and it happened too fast for my liking. **

**I actually thought about not having Dovahkin here but then I slapped myself to my senses. What Skyrim crossover is complete without a Dragonborn and dragons? I don't know what I was thinking. How to put him in is the problem now.**

**Another error I noticed. My Archmage OC somehow changed his name within a chapter. It's amazing how I don't notice this when I read through it right after I finish writing ; but notice days after when I read it for fun.**

* * *

Winterhold was in an uproar. As expected no one liked their new location and blame immediately went to the College, as all things out of the ordinary tend to.

It actually took nearly half a day before most actually realized what had happened. When the usual traders stopped arriving, people got suspicious.

When some came to investigate they found the gate closed and barred. A platoon of Winterhold guards guarding it. The presence of so many swords tends to cool down even the most hot-headed of Nords and Orks.

When rumours of the Archmage discussing something that involved "teleportation" and "all of Winterhold" with the Jarl got out, thanks to some eavesdropping servants, people turned their attention to the College to get answers.

Thankfully the bolstered presence of mages patrolling the College and the extra guards stationed near the bridge kept someone from doing something stupid. The already large crowd was then expanded as heralds cried out that the Jarl was going to make an address at the College.

The citizens of Winterhold crowded into the large plaza that marked the entrance to the College. Mages, wearing the fluttering robes that marked their rank, stood guard in front of the bridge.

If one looked closer; then they could note the symbols on the robes denoted them all as Adepts and Experts of their craft. The tinted red cloth marked them all as destruction mages.

The College was expecting violence and were as ready as they could be for it. If the Jarl couldn't calm the growing crowd; then there will be blood.

Those that had volunteered to guard the College were well aware of this. Their faces were grim as they watched the crowd swell in numbers that reached the thousands.

The Jarl was likewise expecting this to turn out badly though he fervently hoped otherwise. Squads of Winterhold guards made their way into the crowd, positioning themselves into key locations.

More of the watch now patrolled the empty streets far from the plaza. Their blades keeping any footpads that tried to take advantage of the gathering and the absence of most people from their houses.

Companies of Soldiers were also being marshalled to bring forth. The thud of hundreds of troops could be faintly heard over the crowd. Nearly 1000 soldiers would prove a good deterrent to hostilities.

If one inspected the crowd closely they could make out the gleam of weapons in the midday sun within the crowd. Several of them also wore armour. Clearly everyone knew this might turn bloody.

Finally the Jarl arrived. His guards pushed the crowd aside as he made his way to the bridge leading to the College.

He stopped just short of crossing the bridge. The mages respectfully bowed and moved aside for him to speak to his people. The Hold's finest surrounded him, forming a semi-circle in front of him, as they tried to appear calm; keeping hands of their weapon's hilts.

There was tense silence as people quietened upon seeing the Jarl. The Jarl stood up straight and took a deep breath. "People of Winterhold, I bring bad tidings!" he shouted to the crowd so that all could hear.

"I don't know how to put this in other words, or in a better way; but put simply we are no longer in Tamriel. "

There was no noise from the crowd aside from the distracting cries of a baby somewhere near the back of the crowd as people let this sink in.

No longer in Tamriel? How could they no longer be in Tamriel?

People then began to shout all at once. Questions were shouted out by those still confused, while answers were returned by those who pretended to know what was going on. More were shouted for at the Jarl for answers.

The crowd was in an uproar.

A streak of ice sailed over the crowd. It shattered in a loud crack into snowflakes over the crowd. Tracing the source, people saw the Archmage make his way to stand behind the Jarl; his hand still outstretched from casting the spell.

It had the required effect as people quietened down upon seeing the powerful, elderly Bosmer.

Seeing that he could speak and be heard again; Kraldar shouted "It is by the machinations of mages that we have come to be in this new land of Halkengenia. Though, for once, it is not our own that caused this." He added seeing people stir at the mention of mages and immediately linking it to the College of Winterhold.

"It is this lands magic that brought us here. We need to-"

Whatever he was going to say was cut off as people shouted out in anger. There were cries of retribution and compensation among the crowd. Some were even calling for the deaths of those who brought them here.

Thankfully, for the most part, the more level headed people were calling for Winterhold to be returned. Honestly killing the one who brought us here would more or less eliminate all chances of return, and that was plain stupid.

Again Motabe had to use magic to bring attention back to the Jarl. A second ball of ice hovered its way into the crowd for it to shatter again. The Jarl's guards added to this by banging their shields to bring attention back to their liege.

"As I was saying; we need to keep calm and maintain order." The Jarl resumed.

"We have the situation under control and I have already sent an emissary to the lands we find ourselves in. So again I ask for all to return to their homes." He finished.

"Why can't they just send us back?" someone in the crowd shouted. There were cries of support for this question as people demanded to know the answer.

More angry shouts were heard as people demanded their return to Skyrim and retribution for taking them away.

The first signs of danger were now there. Some were already hurriedly making their way out of the crowd, intent on putting as much distance between them and the plaza. The stationed guards were already half drawing their blades and the mages fell into a casting stance.

Motabe stepped forward and answered this. "Magic doesn't work like that. We don't even know the specifics of the spell that brought us here." His answer was not the one people to hear.

"Then what good are you mages? Send us back you un-" Anything else he may have said was drowned out as more accusations were thrown out at the Archmage. This was countered by even more shouting as others defended the mages while, those more suspicious of magic continued to spit at them.

More magic was thrown out to quell the crowd but they were for naught. Already fists were raised and weapons were drawn as fights broke out from the simple disagreement.

For Nords, when talking doesn't work then the next best thing was an axe to the head or a sword to the gut. The other guy won't be able to disagree then.

And then there was pride. Pride would not let a Nord admit he was wrong, especially if he was right or at least believed he was. This works both to the advantage and to the disadvantage of Nords. Right now it was the former.

The Jarl could be seen shouting out to the crowd, his face red from screaming. His guards now huddled together and were trying to force him across the bridge into the College. The Jarl made this hard when he was brandishing his own blade and was screaming obscenities to his men for dragging him away from the fight.

A flash of yellow surrounded the Jarl for a moment and he appeared calmer. Kraldar nodded thanks to Motabe and consented to leaving; his old bones unlikely to stand up stand up to those fighting in the melee.

Down it the plaza, it was chaos. Several individual duels were taking place as people sought blood. Even more were trying to escape the battle and were unwilling dragged into it regardless.

The one that had shouted out first went down with a spray of blood, a dagger embedded into his neck. His body trampled as others either fought or fled on top of it.

The Nord that performed the deed was pounced on by the dead man's friends, dragging him to the ground in a roar of outrage.

A Khajiit trader caught in the fight weaved under the heavy swings of a battle axe. The Nord, angry at his inability to hit the cat, swung it in a wide arc. Again it missed the nimble Khajiit but it did meet flesh.

The congested streets meant that everyone was packed together. His swing may have missed the Khajiit but it did cut through several others.

Someone would get hit by chance and others would set upon the attacker. This in turn brought in others as they defended their friend. Soon, the whole fight became one where they fought to avenge injuries rather as the cycle repeated itself.

The guards called for order at first; but seeing that was not working resorted to more practical methods. Using their shields and the flat side of their swords, they forced their way through the crowd, determined to put themselves between those fighting and those fleeing.

More than a few were cut down by accident, but their corpses and screaming bodies were paid no heed as they struggled to stem the tide.

The struggling combatants paid no attention to those around them. They were focused on fighting the dissenting side.

Mass paralysis spells soared into the fight. Entire groups of fighters were frozen where the stood as the mages of Winterhold entered the fray.

The Archmage himself could be seen generating dirt brown magic in his hands. When it was released and hit a group of struggling Nords and a lone Orc; all were immobilized in hardened mud.

Sickly green blasts of energy erupted from the rest of the magi's hands as they rained down spells. Some of them were also healing non-combatants that were unfortunately caught in the crossfire.

Some of the more mage hating fighters saw the mages and charged them. They were cut short by a squad of guards that had managed to fight their way through the melee to reach the mages.

Metal and wood met flesh as the enraged citizens threw themselves at the exhausted guards regardless, self-preservation losing to their bloodlust.

The soldiers, who were gathered only a few streets away, finally managed to arrive at the plaza which was covered in chaos.

Their dark grey steel armour with a silver cloak thrown over it attracted much attention from all sides. Those trying to stop the fight rejoiced at the sight. The fighters themselves started to regain their senses, the sight of overwhelming force calming them down somewhat.

At the snap of their captain, the troops tightened formations and formed a shield wall. Slowly they marched their way into the plaza from all directions, their shields up front as they blocked any way out.

By those still standing were throwing down their weapons, some were still angry while others were accepting of the situation.

And as quickly as it started; the large scale brawl, or bloodbath some would call it, ended just as quickly.

The bodies of the wounded and dead littered the pavement of the plaza. Moans of pain and cries of help could be heard from all corners of the plaza.

Blood flowed freely from wounds. The crimson liquid staining the once clean pavement as it flowed between cracks in the stones.

The guards who were still standing made their way to arrest those who fought. They were aided by soldiers who broke formation to sweep the entire area.

Healers were called out of the College to tend to the wounded. Guards, mages and soldiers were prioritized for treatment with those who tried to flee being next.

Those who had broken the peace, in support for the mages or not, were made sure they wouldn't die. Otherwise they were left broken on the floor, awaiting their turn to be picked up by the uncompromising City Watch.

* * *

The Palace of Storms was the home of the Jarl and the political centre of Winterhold. The name itself was rather cheesy; but the Jarl had been adamant on naming it after the massive storms that caused the great collapse, in remembrance of the events.

The main hall was where the Jarl held session. Aside from the guards and the servants; there were only four men in the hall.

Motabe; the Archmage of the College of Winterhold. After the fight had been contained he had returned to the College to gather healers. Seeing that was achieved he had made his way to the palace, knowing that Kraldar would seek him out eventually anyway.

Thonjolf, the Housecarl of the Jarl and his personal advisor, had chosen to remain in the palace during all the events outside. His poor fighting prowess was unusual for one that's meant to be a Jarl's sword and shield. But his political skill and the uncanny way that he somehow knew things before it actually happens more than made up for it.

Commander Ulran was the Nord in charge of the cities watch. His arm was in a sling, the result of a Dark Elf hitting him with a makeshift stave unaware, but his minds was what was needed here; not his blade.

And finally there was General Skar. By chance his cheek actually sported a collection of claw marks from when a bear got him with its paw. No one dared openly mock him about it though, despite his age and grey hair, he was still quick enough to put many a younger man to shame.

"Well… that didn't turn out well." Uttered Motabe.

"That is a huge understatement." Responded an irritated Thonjolf.

The chaos had been quelled and wounded were being taken away for treatment. Despite the amount of fighting, there were surprisingly few deaths, though many would have impressive scars by the end of the day.

Many of the cities leaders were called to the Jarl's palace; though the Jarl himself had yet to make an appearance.

"It could have been worse." Offered Ulran.

Only just over two hundred dead with around 1900 wounded, only 300 of those being serious. It indeed could have been worse. Much worse.

"By Talos, don't even start." Muttered the grizzled General.

"With the number of people present, I'm actually surprised that it took that long for the fi-"The Archmage cut himself short as the Jarl finally arrived; Arlerus Jurulonus trailing behind him.

Normally he would have continued regardless but the appearance of the Imperial Thane meant news from Tristain.

All attention shifted to the new arrivals, many saluting Kraldar as he passed them.

Seating himself on his throne he turned to face his subordinates and colleagues while The Thane of Winterhold made his way to stand by the Archmage.

"Today… was a disaster." He stated plainly.

"So… Ulran how many?" he asked the Commander of the guard.

"How many of what? The dead? Wounded? Prisoners?" Ulran asked.

The Jarl sighed. "All of them." he elaborated.

The commander pulled out a piece of parchment from his pouch. He brought it up to the light to read. "204 dead. Approximately 1850 wounded and there are now exactly 412 new residents in our cells."

"And your own men?"

Ulran grimaced. "Thirty-two guardsmen died, proudly serving Winterhold, today." He answered solemnly.

Kraldar frowned. "Commander; I want you to find the instigators. Failing that, then all of them will face execution. Rest assured Commander I will not allow their deaths go unpunished."

He nodded in gratitude and saluted the Jarl. "Then if there is nothing else; I will begin immediately."

Seeing the Jarl hold wave for him to stay; he remained rooted to the spot.

"No. Stay here for now. What Arlerus brings will likely affect your business too."

"Yes my Jarl."

Satisfied the Jarl turned to look at Arlerus. Motioning the Thane to step forward he asked for a report of his meeting.

"My Jarl, I have managed to secure a trade agreement with the Crown of Tristain. It is more advantageous to us than our previous one back in Skyrim; due to their inability to adequately value our products properly, though this may not last forever. And the Princess has… an offer for Winterhold."

The Jarl leaned forward. "And what is this offer?"

Taking a deep breath Arlerus answered. "Our oath of allegiance to the Kingdom of Tristain, in exchange for the protection from other foreign nations for the duration of our time here."

Kraldar reclined back into his chair in thought. "I am not willing to forswear my oath to the Empire like my predecessor was Arlerus. Though you would know that so what's the catch in this deal of theirs?" he asked the Imperial softly.

"It is likely they will forcibly annex us regardless. No nation would be willing to allow a separate state within their borders; unless they were significantly stronger than the other. I don't think Tristain is that strong so as to ignore us and let us be." He replied in just as soft of a tone.

"So it's join us willingly or we will force you?"

"They didn't say that exactly but yes, that is it exactly it." Arlerus confirmed.

The Jarl sighed for what might have been the hundredth time today.

His hand was on his head as he hunched over in thought. "And what guarantees do they offer?"

"None yet, we have no discussed it. I believe such matters are left for you and Thonjolf."

Thonjolf slightly nodded his approval at this move, while the Jarl was more lukewarm about it. While he wasn't a horrible politician, it was no secret that he preferred the thrill of battle to the bustling of politics. But being a leader wasn't about what he wanted, something he made all his subordinates remember.

At times he thought about stepping down and letting his son take his place. The boy was already into his twenties and was an outstanding man; already marking his place in Winterhold's army as one of its officers.

Such thoughts were cast down eventually. He wanted his son to be free from the infernal niceties of politics as long as he could. Times like these especially. A new leader would only make the growing civil unrest worse.

"Swearing allegiance would not be accepted by the people. Even some of our own men might rebel for this." Interjected Thonjolf.

"That is what I told the Princess." Responded Arlerus.

"Today's spectacle wouldn't hold a candle to what would come if you accepted." Said a disbelieving captain. The ramifications of accepting would be even worse than today.

"We cannot accept like that. People are already up in arms about the transversal, if Winterhold was to bend its knee to a foreign power just like that… we wouldn't last a week." Motabe contributed.

"You are all correct in that it is unacceptable. But can we afford to say no. We are just one province against an entire country." Said Skar, as he crossed his arms in thought.

"I'm no politician, but wouldn't it be better if we refused this and offered an alliance It would have to favour them, of course, else they wouldn't accept." He continued.

Arlerus shrugged his shoulders. "I suggested that but the Princess pushed for us to merge temporarily."

"I believe it would be for the best if this was done with Tristain directly instead of plucking at hypothetical solutions. Sometimes facing something head on is the best approach."" Suggested Motabe.

"I agree that it is better. But as I said, I'm just a soldier. This kind of work doesn't suit me." Agreed the General.

And this was why Kraldar liked his advisors. Without him contributing much at all, they had given him an answer to the problem.

"Then we shall meet." Announced Kraldar. Facing things directly suited him better anyway.

Thonjolf looked ready to disagree, but seeing the Jarl was set on this course; he stopped himself from wasting both of their time.

"Arlerus, when are they expecting you back?" asked the Jarl.

The Imperial gave another shrug. "I expect in another few days."

"Good. I will come with you then. Thonjolf I want you to be my steward while I'm away, just do what you normally do. Skar, I want a bigger routine; first impressions mean much. And captain, people will likely be upset about me leaving so I want you to maintain order as well as you can. Do not let another incident like today to occur again if you can help it."

With that he got off his throne and dismissed them all.

The others saluted while Motabe gave a small bow. As group began to leave someone placed his hand onto the Archmage's shoulder to stop him.

Turning around, Motabe found himself facing Arlerus. "Is there something else my friend?"

Arlerus smiled in that hearty manner of his. "Yes. Yes there is. You see I found some interesting people during my short trip."

Motabe, now curious, asked him to elaborate.

"I met two girls' there at the Academy. One, who I believe you are already an acquaintance with, and a second girl; Siesta of Tarbes."

The only girl he could possibly be an acquaintance of was Miss Valliere though the second was unknown to him. "And what was so interesting about them, that you would bring it up with me."

Wait. Two girls that interested a powerful mage who happened to be friends with. If they were interesting to him, it was likely related to magic. And if he was bringing the subject up with him it meant…

"You taught them magic of some kind and they proved to be geniuses at it." He stated simply

Arlerus was taken aback by his deduction but eventually regain his composure with a smile. "And you ruined the surprise. Nevertheless, I am asking if you can find a sponsor for Miss Siesta and possibly Miss Louise, if she needs it. It would be a sin to let talent like theirs go to waste."

The Bosmer rubbed his chin in interest. "So what did they do that was so amazing?"

"They mastered a basic conjuration spell in a day, no a few hours at most; with no prior experience in manipulating magicka. In fact Miss Siesta managed to cast it on her first try with only my obscure instructions to go by. Miss Louise managed it only a few hours later."

An untrained girl managing to successfully cast a spell that others would normally take at least a week to learn and cast it. And that was if they were already taught the basics of magic.

"That is indeed impressive if what you say is true. Miss Siesta I could sponsor but Miss Louise is… she's already a student of another Academy."

"I was only asking for sponsorship for Miss Siesta. Miss Louise already has teachers; who are more likely better suited to teach her their brand of magic anyhow." Interjected Arlerus.

The Archmage smiled sagely. "Then so shall it be. If Miss Siesta is as good as you say; then she will have no trouble finding a place in the College if she desires it."

"And that is all I ask for. Many thanks." Thanked the Imperial.

The two were left alone in the silence of the halls now. The stoic guards kept their silence and all servants had long left the hall, their work done.

Together they made their way out of the hall as they discussed the College's new prospect.

* * *

**Louise is probably going to end up in the College regardless of what I just wrote there. Everyone else? I don't know. And since we all know the Winterhold learning experience involves going through dangerous dungeons and fighting magical threats; they won't be stuck reading books all the time.**

** Really; you hardly actually need to use magic during the quest line and the few times you do, the spell is given or is a very basic one. Reminds me of the Oblivion Mages Guild quest where the only interesting part was the magic Aylied pillar that reflects wrong spells back at you. Except you actually had to cast a spell to join the College of Winterhold; whereas in Cyrodiil any random guy could join as long as they're not wanted by the guards.**


	6. Chapter 6

**So I added the Dragonborn into the story as an Argonian. Why an Argonian? Why not? I got tired of the Nord Dragonborn, despite that being my character. Besides Argonians are lizards and so are dragons, makes much more sense…somehow.**

**That said; I've always wondered why bandits always attack you. I mean the player eventually walks around in Daedric armour and all, which should be pretty rare and is essentially a walking killing machine in game. So how do bandits and marauders not recognise you?**

**By then you must of have killed whole gangs of bandits with little effort and regularly kill dragons. And people in towns seem to recognise you as Dragonborn just fine; even when you're wearing a helmet that covers your face.**

**You think they would be afraid of the Dragonborn, bane of Alduin, the World-Eater. But no; they decide to attack you anyway. The same applies to most of the hostile mages, hired thugs, vampires, and assassins. The result tends to be the same all the time too: One Dragonborn looting the half dozen or so dead bodies on the floor of all valuables.**

* * *

A lone prey ran through the dreary tunnel. Behind it; the prey could hear the heavy footsteps of its hunter.

The hunted ran on, desperately trying to escape the manifestation of death closing behind him. All of its companions were dead. Their blood now stained the dark, rock walls of their abode.

Light. It could see light emitting from around the corner. The exit out of the cave was there. It was an escape from here.

The quarry turned the corner with great speed. Its body collided with the rocky corner before it took off again. Blood and bruises, from the collision, now marked its body. But it paid no heed to the pain resonating within its body.

Wounds can heal eventually. But death, for the most part, was eternal.

The prey could see it now. There was the entrance to the cavern. It was so clo-

His body exploded in pain as the quarry came to a slow halt. He knees fell to the ground as lost the will to resist his impending death. Slowly looking down; he could see a dark demonic blade jutting out from his shoulder.

The black and red daedric sword seemed to drink his very blood. His view was turning red and black now as the life slowly faded from his body.

A heavy weight was placed on his back. Its body was pushed to the ground as the blade that took his life was withdrawn.

His body had already shut down before he felt the hard stone of the floor. He was graced on look of his killer. The being wearing charcoal black and crimson scarred armour was the last thing he saw.

* * *

Gah-Ei wiped the blood of his jagged blade on the dead marauder's tunic. The Breton had nearly gotten away so he had thrown his blade at him. It was more due to luck than skill that the throw landed.

In hindsight, it was rather stupid of him to throw his primary weapon; but the frustrations of the last few weeks needed to be released.

He was no berserker; but the thrill of fighting and the satisfaction of killing bandits was a good way to blow off steam.

The last weeks had been among the unluckiest weeks he has ever had. The journey from Solitude to Winterhold was not meant to be this tedious.

It wasn't so bad at first. He only had to kill about a dozen bandits, who thought it would be a good idea to attack the lone Argonian wearing the rare and valuable Daedric Armour. Sometimes the stupidity of bandits even astounded him.

When he started using shouts; they actually got more exited instead of scared of fighting the living legend. Apparently they were sure their superior numbers would see them through killing the aging Dragonborn. The fight only lasted a twenty minutes, with most of it spent chasing the archers.

But once he entered the hold of Winterhold; things turned around. The cold was bearable. But the frequency of attacks on his person was not.

If it wasn't a pair of Ice Wraiths looking for a fight then it would be Cultists wanting to kill him for being the 'false Dragonborn'.

Add on all the usual bandits, evil mages, wolves and even the occasional vampire and you were left with a rough trip.

And when you though it couldn't get worse; you meet an angry giant with a large wooden club.

The first blow had caught him dead on and had sent him flying away. While a normal person would have died, he was wearing enchanted Daedric armour and only the wind was knocked out of him. While he didn't suffer major injuries aside from what might be a concussion; he unfortunately landed on weak rock.

This caved in and let him free fall a short distance right into a cave. A cave that was full of bandits having their afternoon lunch. They didn't take kindly to his arrival.

While they had the advantage of him being down on the ground; it did not change the inevitable outcome. He tended to not show mercy to bandits.

It took him the rest of the day and most of the night to finally get the general directions to the exit from this infernal cavern complex from a Dunmer kind enough to tell him before he died. It took some persuading but he eventually got his way.

He encountered a second band near the tunnel to said exit. Once again they attacked him on sight only to be killed off in quick order until there was only one ill equipped Breton remaining.

The last one had abandoned his allies and fled. Any others within the cave complex were unceremoniously pushed into him, to but time for the fleeing Breton to make his escape.

If there was one thing he disliked more than the excessive amounts of bandits that Skyrim seemed to breed; it was cowards that left their allies to die.

A black gem shone briefly in his hand. The Breton would eventually make himself of use to him, whether he wanted to or not.

Still, at least now he didn't need to look for the exit himself.

Sheathing his blade Gah-Ei stepped out into the light. The crunch of snow marked his departure from the cave.

He was high up on a small slope. Down below him he could see the main road again. And off into the distance he could see… a column of dust.

He made his way back to the road, taking all the time he needed to wade his way through the walls of snow.

By the time he arrived at the stone path; the source of the dust became clear. It was a procession of riders, all wearing the silver white of Winterhold. Bannermen rode stoically on their mounts, their flags proudly flapped with the wind.

He took off his helmet and lifted his hands in greetings. When the column came to a halt he was mildly surprised. But then; someone equipped in full Daedric armour wasn't something you see every day.

"Great-Eyes! It has been a long time my friend." A familiar voice called out to him.

The Jarl of Winterhold led his grey stallion towards him. The Imperial Thane and the Archmage of the College of Winterhold rode beside him; on their respective chestnut and white horses.

He had met the Jarl through his acquaintance with Arlerus. Back then, he was younger and the small rundown town was still only beginning to transform into the prosperous city it was today.

Like most land-striders, the Nord couldn't pronounce his name properly and had taken to giving him a Colombian name.

"It is good to see you again, Dragonborn." Arlerus politely greeted.

"Indeed. I had not expected to see you anytime soon; Gah-Ei" joined the Archmage, himself being one of the few land-striders capable of pronouncing his Argonian name.

"And you too my friends." Replied the Argonian.

By then the whole column of riders had stopped. The soldiers of Winterhold pulled on their reins to rein in their horses. The burden of their heavy equipment had little effect on the horses.

Battlemages were located all along the line of horsemen. Their dark blue armoured robes standing out among the white cloaks and grey steel plate of the regular troops.

Dead centre of the column, guarded on all sides by the horsemen, was a series of supplies brought forward by wagons. Half a dozen of spare horses were tied to the back wagon, the sudden stop making them jittery.

"This is quite a group that you have brought with you; Jarl Kraldar." Commented Gah-Ei as he inspected the waiting convoy.

"It is required to make a powerful first impression on the Tristain Crown." Said Motabe.

Tristain Crown? What was that? He was well travelled and he had not heard of this Tristain.

Seeing the confusion on his face; Motabe asked. "Did you not notice the change? Where have you been the last few days?"

"I've been busy; the bandits make life difficult for me to travel."

Arlerus cursed softly. "Only a few days of confusion for our men and the bandits are already out in force."

"You are more than a match for a normal band of looters, that couldn't have possibly distracted you that much." Noted the Archmage.

"A giant contributed. Where I landed after said giant hit me; was quite annoying. I had to spend most of the last day getting out of that cave."

"Well you got out at a perfect time. There's a blizzard coming just behind us, so you may as well mount up and join us." The Jarl's offer was more of a statement of fact than an offer of hospitality.

Inwardly; Gah-Ei swallowed. Horses were beasts he had trouble riding. His tail often getting in the way of him mounting and the uncomfortable position he often finds himself on.

Glancing behind the column; he could indeed see a cloud of white descending on them. And slowly but steadily it edged ever closer.

It was either be uncomfortable on a horse or be caught in a blizzard. To be honest weathering the blizzard sounded more appealing than sitting on a horse.

Unfortunately he had no real choice in the matter; as one of the spare horses were brought up to him.

"Mount up. We ride for Driftshade." Called the Jarl.

Gah-Ei tried to refuse but was ignored by the yelling Jarl. He looked to Arlerus and Motabe but they had conveniently turned their heads to stare at something off in the distance.

Between the loud Jarl's orders and his so called 'friends' lack of support; he reluctantly mounted the horse given to him. His tail got strafed the horse's side causing it to buckle slightly. After a minute of struggling he managed to right himself on the saddle.

The column shifted into a slow start and then a full gallop as the progressed. His tail, hanging behind the horse's rump bounced up and down; as he managed to run across every bit of uneven ground there was.

It was a game of sorts as he half focussed on Motabe, who was explaining what he had missed to him, and on keeping himself from falling off.

This was going to be a long trip.

* * *

And it was that indeed. Instead of thanking them and leaving the group after they arrived at Driftshade Refuge, he was convinced into travelling with them all the way to the Academy of Tristain.

Both his and the horse's backsides were bruised. The scaly tail constantly hitting the rump of the horse was unhealthy for both of the Argonian and his mount.

After half a day's rest they pressed on. Gambling on being able to outrun the snow storm, they resumed galloping at full speed, much to the dismay of him and his horse.

Ultimately that gamble failed as the snow overtook them. No-one tended to die in these storms; the inhabitants of Winterhold long being prepared for them.

But it did split their group up, the flurry of snow blocking everyone's line of sight. Only the hoarse screaming and shouting of the riders kept them from being completely separated. Just follow the sound of someone cursing aloud and there was certain to be someone.

Gah-Ei eventually managed to weather out the storm. The power of the storm faded as they got closer to Tristain. Beside him was a pair of Winterhold soldiers, both shivering from the cold but otherwise unharmed.

Looking around he saw they were now in a dense forest and bush. The layers of snow seemed to be decreasing the further in they went. This was undoubtedly Tristain. While it was winter in Winterhold, as it always is, it was currently spring in Tristain.

Hearing the sound of voices nearby he motioned for the two to follow him as he dismounted. Leading his horse, he moved closer to the voices. Recognising one of them as belonging to the Jarl, he dropped caution and moved swiftly to reach him.

His sudden appearance from the bush spooked the three soldiers and lone battlemage with the Jarl. The warriors instantly drew their blades to face him; while the battlemage fired off a spear of ice which narrowly missed his head and impaled itself onto the trunk of a tree.

The warriors lowered their weapons at the sight of him while the battlemage flushed slightly as he apologised for his mistake.

"That was probably not the best decision I've made." Said Kraldar as the two warriors, being him, burst out of the bush in a rush, weapons first; the spear of ice being an indicator for trouble.

"But it's not your worst, nor is it likely to be your last too." Gah-Ei commented.

His retainers did not like how the Argonian Dragonborn was belittling their Jarl, but Kraldar didn't seem to mind.

"And that's why I like you Great-Eyes. It's hard to find someone actually willing to speak their mind without having to worry about being politically correct." Kraldar gave a sad smile as he said that.

With their party now up to eight members they journeyed through the foliage in search of a road or any indicator of their whereabouts.

A dirt road was found only an hour later. Trekking down the road had them encounter more of their missing companions and one of their wagons.

Now with fifteen of them plus one wagon, they continued their search. The battlemages stayed seated on the wagon as they used some form of magic to try and locate the others.

And then they stopped. A large stack of logs barred their way. Nearly thirty or so armed men came into view around their group. Six of them were holding what looked like a long club and the two more well-dressed ones wielded a short stick. The rest was armed with what you would normally expect of bandits: rusted blades, short axes and crude shields.

"Well strangers; I'll make this quick. Hand over all your goods and valuables and we'll let you live. Refuse and you'll die. So what'll it be?" asked one of the stick wielding men.

"Look friend. We're no seeking any trouble. Just let us pass and you lot won't have to die." Answered the Jarl, confident in his men's abilities.

The highwaymen laughed at what they assumed to be false bravado. They were less than a third their number with some old men sitting on the wagon. The thought of them killing all of their ambushers was laughable.

"Not how it works here I'm afraid. Me and my friend here are mages so I don't think you'll be killing us anytime soon." Replied the leader as he finished laughing.

Ah. If all nobles were mages then that would make these men… disgraced nobles? In that case it would be alright to kill them; seeing as though their common bandits now.

"Well if you want to die that badly… then Sovngarde take you!" With that he drew his trusty blade, an old memento from the Civil War and rode his horse at the bandit leader. The rest of his men followed suit and the mages jumped off the wagon.

The disgraced noble smirked as he flicked his wand. A torrent of fire burst out and headed towards the Jarl. Flames consumed the Jarl as the rest of his men now engaged the commoner bandits.

Thinking the old man was finished, the disgraced noble turned his attention away from the burning corpse. Said burning corpse burst out of the flames, singed but mostly fine. Roaring he shook off the embers on his cloak as he continued his charge.

"Hah! You call that fire? My hearth's fire burns better than that." Mocked the Jarl as his horse jumped over the roadblock.

The fallen noble startled in surprise and attempted to cast another spell, but was cut off as the blade descended on him. The cold steel easily cutting through the cloth, flesh and bones that made up the mage.

Back at the caravan, Gah-Ei was making short work of their would-be killers. The bandits seemed to have discarded armour for lighter attire which would allow them to move faster. They were regretting that now as they died by his hands.

He ducked under another clumsy swing and gutted the poor man. The bandit stood there for a moment as he if he struggled to understand what had happened. Then an axe descended on his neck, as one of the Winterhold soldiers finished him off.

Seeing no more immediate threats he surveyed the small battlefield. Bodies littered the ground and the undergrowth of the forest. And all of them were bandits. Two of their own side had limped their way to the mages, who were multi-tasking between healing them and firing off bolts of lightning and ice.

Beyond the roadblock the Jarl was joined by two others and was in the process of gutting the one who boasted at being a mage. The other mage had joined the fight and had thrown as blast of shredding wind at one of the soldiers.

It had the effect of knocking him off his feet and earning him a few scratches as he landed in the undergrowth. But like the Jarl, he was relatively unharmed by what was meant to be deadly magic.

The rest of the trained and disciplined soldiers of Winterhold were dispatching the remaining bandits with relative ease and efficiency. The amateur fighters stood little chance. This wasn't much of a fight.

Several large cracks sounded off and a small force rebounded off of Gah-Ei's Daedric armour. Looking down the Argonian spotted two small balls of metal dripping off his armour.

The six bandits that hanged back were now quickly fiddling with their sticks which were now emitting some traces of smoke. Not wanting to see what the balls would do to someone with less durable armour; he ordered the mages to focus on them.

Unused to his commands the mages hesitated, unsure on whether to follow it or not. This allowed the bandits to finally finish whatever they were doing and aim their sticks at the mages.

Once again the sound of thunder filled the battlefield. One of the mages screamed in pain as his arm gushed out blood from an invisible wound. This broke the mages out of whatever stupor they were in and they finally attacked the ball shooters.

A mixture of thunder bolts and ice spears were rained down onto the bandits. Dropping their thunder sticks they broke and ran. They didn't get far as the spears of ice impaled them while the bolts of lightning crippled their body with super charged electricity.

And it was over. Only four of their number had been hurt, the most serious belonging to the mage hit by the metal ball. On the other hand; the bandits came out poorly. Of the original thirty-two only three remained, the trio throwing down their weapons and wand, in the case of the disgraced mage, while begging for mercy.

The Jarl rode back around the roadblock. His blade still in his hand as the blood dried up on it in the midday sun.

"Not much of a fight, but welcome nevertheless. As Jarl, you don't get to see much action, especially when you reach my age." He said, more for himself than anyone in particular.

While the Nords congratulating themselves, Gah-Ei went to pick up one of those sticks that spit metal balls. He wasn't alone as one of the battlemages joined him in inspecting them.

"That thing packs quite the punch." The mage commented.

Gah-Ei nodded his head in agreement. With the battlemage, they picked rounded them up and took them back to the cart.

By then the healing of the wounded mage had brought out another metal ball. The magically restored flesh and blood had rejected the foreign object. As a result, the ball had to be forced out by the body as flesh and bone regrew.

Dropping the weapons on the wagon, he lifted one back up and took it to the prisoners they had. The two commoners had been tied up while the disgraced noble had one of the battlemages draining magicka and fatigue off him, to ensure he had no energy to cast.

Holding it up for the prisoners to see, he asked what his was.

"T… Tha…That's an m…muskoot, musket! I mean musket." Was the response he received. The sight of the man-lizard armoured like a devil had made him extremely fearful. This thing had killed eight of them like nothing. His armour still seemed to be drenched in their blood too.

Seeing that interrogating a prisoner that was scared witless, would take too long the Argonian placed the musket back onto the wagon. They still had to find the rest of their group and shouldn't waste time.

Normally the punishment for being and outlaw was death; but seeing this was Tristainian lands they really shouldn't just execute them. The trio of prisoners were painfully dumped onto the wagon. The threats of death should be enough to keep them there.

The battlemages then cleared the road using telekinesis. The heavy logs generating dust clouds as they were dropped off the road. The small party, led by the Jarl, then set off again.

Two hours later, they found the Archmage, or rather he and Arlerus, along with the majority of their men, found them. They had a more eventful trip, their larger numbers scaring off any threat.

It was the sound of dozens of horses galloping behind them that alerted the Jarl and his group. Swords were half drawn as the men prepared for another attack.

The attack never came as the incoming party bore the banners of Winterhold. The emblem of the Helm of Winterhold was clearly marked on the grey flags. At the fore front rode the Archmage and the Thane of Winterhold.

Relief was seen on all their faces as the two groups closed the distance between each other. As per usual, the tales of what each other did was shared before they continued on.

The detour the Jarl had and the time the rest of the entourage had spent looking for them; meant that by dusk, the Academy was nowhere in sight.

Seeing no alternative, they decided to set up camp and sleep under the alien stars and moon for the night.

Moving off the road and deeper into the forest, the pitched up tents and organised a night watch. Small trees were felled to make room and the wood was put to good use. The fires that night shone brightly.

That was when they broke out the mead and ale. The men with the Jarl told exaggerated stories of their prowess against the bandits. Many toasted the Jarl himself for valiantly killing the bandit's leader.

Said bandits were retied to trees. Given only the refuse from their captor's meals, they resigned themselves to their unknown fates.

Gah-Ei had long taken off his armour. While it was the hardest and sturdiest armour he has ever owned; sleeping in it was impossible. The jagged edges tended to tear up beds and sheets.

Beside him, an intoxicated Arlerus had fallen asleep on him, his arm still wrapped around the Argonian's shoulder when he had toasted with him; and was refusing to let go. Initially he had wanted to not wake his friend, but seeing he was unable to move away and knowing how he was a heavy sleeper, he smashed a bottle of cold mead over his head.

The Imperial was hard-headed and he was sure he could take the blow. He knew some restorative magic just in case though.

The Imperial awoke instantly and choked as some of the alcohol entered his mouth. He was scrambling for a towel while the Argonian quietly left. He was screaming about how it was bleeding and directed a number of obscenities at him as Gah-Ei entered his designated tent.

Perhaps this journey wouldn't be so bad after all.

* * *

**Another thing that doesn't make sense to me. Somehow it's possible to eat food during the middle of battle to heal yourself. Said food is also capable of healing wounds. So enough carrots could save a dying man.**

**Also the races of Tamriel must have some immunity to magic in general. You could burn them, impale them with ice and shock them with high powered electricity; and more likely than not they'll just shrug it off. **

**That being said Halkengenian magic still works on them. If an Earth mage throws a boulder at a Nord, I'm fairly certain the Nord will be crushed. And Ice Spears will work to some extent. The people of Skyrim have developed a certain level of resistance to this specific spell, being able to survive even with solid ice piercing through important organs and occasionally their head.**


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm doing politics again. Since I was uncomfortable with how quick it went by last time; I'm going to try to make this longer. This would last more than a chapter hopefully. I'll see if I can add intervals in between though. Any inconsistences or things that doesn't make sense please tell me.**

**I think I might make it a habit of mine to list things that don't make sense in Skyrim here such as: why are there more bandits, evil mages, Forsworn and other evil doers than there are guards and people in cities?**

**If characters are becoming Gary-Stu or are OOC please tell me; because I'll probably not notice it myself.**

* * *

The walls of the Academy came into view. Its stone gates opened for them as they arrived.

Once again there was a crowd of people, jostling to get a look at them. The Princess and the Cardinal was waiting on the front steps for them, much like how Arlerus had waited for them.

More than a few gasps of surprise were given when Gah-Ei came into view. Looking like a devil, the only thing distinguishing otherwise was his scaly tail.

The Archmage drew little attention. Aware of local prejudices, he had pulled up his hood to avoid a scene.

As he slowly let himself down, the Jarl had already dismounted and was proceeding to approach the Princess.

"Well met your Highness." He greeted politely performing a bow as he acknowledged her higher position. He could be diplomatic when he wanted to be.

She curtsied slightly as she returned his greeting. Motabe and Arlerus had by then moved up to flank Kraldar.

Once again the whole party relocated back to the classroom. Motabe politely refused to remove his hood when asked and Arlerus whispered to the Cardninal, who nodded slightly.

An Elf, even a passive one, would cause a panic in the academy.

The guards securely closed the door and waited outside as to deter unwelcome ears. The room itself was filled with the same occupants with the addition of the Jarl and the Archmage.

"Your Highness, It appears I was misjudged the situation within Winterhold. I no longer believe swearing ourselves is possible." Started Arlerus.

The Princess and the Cardinal were surprised though he did not show it. Complications were expected with politics after all.

"May I ask why? Sir Arlerus was certain you would agree Lord Kraldar." Henrietta asked the older man.

The Jarl glanced at his Thane who shrugged. Did he really think that he would accept when his people would revolt?

"I don't think my Thane anticipated the… opposition we would… receive." Answered Kraldar. By the Nine, it was barely a minute in and he was already having trouble making sure his words were polite and all.

"Yes, so I must offer to become your vassal as a protectorate again." Hastily finished Arlerus.

The previous night the Jarl had agreed with his idea. While it would still mean swearing allegiance, he could still maintain the majority of control over Winterhold. It wouldn't be too unlike how the Empire allows their provinces to still have monarchs who ruled in their name.

There would be still some that might question the move and others may even go as far to question his honour. But the majority should hopefully be content and satisfied. Hopefully.

The Princess frowned. It appeared they were reaching the same complications as last time. Still; it would be better to hear the offer out first before deciding.

"And what would the conditions of this be?" she inquired.

The Jarl must have given some unseen sign as the Imperial was the one who answered with what was obviously a practiced speech.

"We would receive the protection of the Kingdom of Tristain and your assurance that Tristain will march to our defence should our security be threatened. In return Winterhold will give a monthly payment in exchange for your protection."

He took a deep breath as a break before continuing. "All military assets of Winterhold shall likewise aid Tristain on all ventures and while they will remain under the direct control of Winterhold, we will defer overall command to Tristain. That is our basic terms but they are open to negotiation."

Thoughts hurried all over inside Henrietta's brain. She was entrusted the authority to decide for Tristain by her mother and the Cardinal and she couldn't afford to make a mistake.

"How much payment are we to receive?" she asked.

"The payment will be a quarter of all earnings we make. This in turn depends on how much we trade." Answered Arlerus; not committing a definite answer.

The Princess chewed her lips. Tristain was certain to take advantage of the potions and other goods they had, so most of the money would be from Tristain's economy. But since Winterhold was within Tristain; they would have no other trade partners unless…

"As our protectorate, do you reserve the right to make individual treaties without our consent? If so then we cannot accept these terms unless you agree to seek our consent first." She said giving them an ultimatum.

By ensuring Tristain remained their only trade partner then Tristain would have a monopoly on their goods. Other nations would be unable to trade directly and so must come to Tristain instead. Since their currency was likely useless in Halkengenia, they would need to draw as much wealth as they can while potions and enchanted items are still new to build up capital in Ecu.

Arlerus looked to his liege who gestured for him to come closer. Leaning in they conversed for a few moments before they separated.

"What type of treaties do you take issue with us deciding on indepedently?" the Imperial asked.

They both knew the types of treaties she took issue with but the question had to be voiced regardless.

"The ability for you to make private agreements with other nations cannot be accepted by us. While you have dealt with us in good faith so far, there is no guarantee that this would last forever." Answered Mazarin in her stead.

The Winterhold party looked offended, the Jarl more than the others. "I don't know if it's the same here, but honour is important to a Nord. If we planned for conflict then we would face you head on, not use some underhanded tricks." Growled the Jarl.

There was a noticeable increase in tension that permeated the room. Captain Wardes's hand fell to his belt where he stroked his sword-wand, seeing this; the Imperial Thane gingerly touched the hilt of his blade in return.

Quickly backing down, Henrietta defused the situation. "My apologies, we did not intend to question your honour, but it remains a concern nevertheless."

Kraldar nodded in understanding. "My thanks for your understanding. But your terms… limit us greatly."

Arlerus nodded in agreement. "Yes. Could you not-"

"This is not negotiable." She stated firmly. As much as she sympathized with their situation, she must put Tristain ahead first as per her duty as the Princess.

The Imperial closed his mouth. He gave a glance to the Jarl and lowered his head slightly; signalling that he would leave the decision to the Jarl.

Kraldar though it over. Obviously she was trying to make Winterhold dependent on Tristain for trade. While this would limit them somewhat, their location would probably make Tristain their largest trade partner regardless.

However it also meant that he couldn't make provisions in the event Tristain turns hostile. If they attacked then it would help if they had an outside supporter. Unfortunately he and his entourage were too high profile to make 'trips' to other nations and not draw suspicions. Though the Princess seems earnest enough.

"We agree your terms on the condition that we are able to manage our own resources without your interference."

"Done. I'll have scribes to put the agreement to paper." confirmed the Princess.

"And now for another issue." Stated Arlerus.

The Archmage reached up and pulled his hood down to reveal a pair of pointed ears. If this was anywhere else in Tristain, then people would be staring in dumb shock. Luckily the Tristainian party had already been informed of the nature of their guest.

"I am Archmage Motabe of the College of Winterhold. It's an honour to meet you." Greeted Motabe.

"Likewise."

"I don't believe I would need to explain why this would be an issue."

The Princess shook her head. She did not want to sound demeaning or racist, but he was an Elf; only one of the many that resided within Winterhold. That by itself would cause many problems.

They were, after all, the enemies of mankind for thousands of years. Even if these Elves were different to their Halkengenian counterparts, age old prejudices were still strong.

"How many Elves are present within your lands?" she asked apprehensively.

The Imperial thought about the answer for a moment. "They're a minority so I'm not too certain… do you know Motabe?"

"I believe there are around three thousand Mers, or Elves, in Winterhold." Answered Motabe.

Three thousand Elves were not a good propect. If there had even a fraction of the power the Elves in Haklengenia had…

"And then there are about maybe five thousand Khajiits and Argonians. A bit more Khajiits though. There's some six hundred Orcs too."

Orcs? She thought.

"Yes. There are Orcs in Winterhold. Though technically they're Elves as well, so I suppose that brings the number of Mers to around 3600."

Realizing she had actually voiced her thoughts, she light blushed in embarrassment, though no one seemed to mind; being too busy listening the Elf.

Wait. How could Orcs 'technically' be Elves. This time intentionally voicing her query; the Archmage stopped his talk to answer.

"It took thousands of years but the early Elves split into a series of sub-races; all of whom still have 'mer' in their name. These are the Bosmer, Altmer, Dunmer and Orisimer."

The Archmage then delved into a fascinating explanation of the Elves of their lands. The Tristainians listened closely in interest as he went on about the first Elves; the Aldmer.

While they sound as powerful as the Elves in the Holy Land; they were no less strong. Some of the feats of magic they performed actually made what their Elves have done pale in comparison.

The Psijic Order he described seemed to be the epitome of mastery over magic. Being able to move an entire land mass with magic was impossible, yet they had accomplished it nevertheless.

Thinking about it made her realize how little they knew of their Elves in comparison. Aside from knowing they were powerful, occupied the Holy Land and hated humanity there wasn't much else known about the. Though; thousands of years of hostilities, understandably, made learning about them extremely difficult.

A knock on the door interrupted them. So engrossed we they that they failed to realize how much time went by, and how much was wasted talking about history.

"Pardon the interruption. But the midday meal is prepared." The nervous servant said.

The Jarl was the first out of his chair. "Perhaps it would be best to continue this after some food."

The mention of food brought a small rumble within her stomach. Perhaps it was time for a meal.

* * *

The Alviss Hall was packed with students. Everyone wanted to catch a glimpse of her royal highness and the strange foreign dignitaries that arrived earlier. There were rumours of a lizard that walked like a human and wore armour forged from the skin of a devil; that came with the foreigners.

Louise was seated in her usual table. Her ghostly wolf had sadly disappeared over the course of the last few days. At first; it was just him becoming fainter, but that could have just been a trick of the light. Eventually he did disappear when the ghostly canine burst into ashes just, like Siesta's had.

Trying the spell again, she had brought it back but now everyone knew it wasn't a real familiar. That would mean she would have leave the Academy. What would she tell mother…?

"Oh, Louise! Where are you?" the annoying Germanian's voice could be distinctly heard over the clamour of hall. She sank lower into her chair. Right now she didn't want to put up with Zerbst.

Unfortunately her own hair worked against her wishes. The natural pink was easy to spot among the students and served as a beacon for the harlot.

She sauntered up to her and plumped herself down on the seat next to her; the ever silent Tabitha sat quietly beside Kirche. As usual she drew plenty of attention from the nearby males with her body. Unwillingly Louise looked down and compared herself with Kirche; another reason to be depressed about.

"Ohoho, so this is where you went Louise." Kirche said with a smile.

"Go away." She mumbled in reply.

Seeing Louise was plopped down on the table, all but ignoring her food, she snuggled Louise. Her chest met Louise's face as she hugged her. "Now you know I can't do that Louise. So why don't you tell momma Kirche what's wrong and I'll make it all better?" she teased.

She got the desired response as Louise blushed and struggled to push Kirche off her. "Get off of me you harlot."

"I already told you; not until you tell me what's wrong." Kirche tightened her hold on Louise as she spluttered.

True to her word; Kirche did in fact make things better somewhat. Now instead of wallowing in her depression; she was now comically fighting for her life as she struggled to breathe.

"Her Highness Henrietta of Tristain, and Lord Kraldar of Winterhold!" the declaration of the herald resounded all over the hall. Hushed silence fell over the hall as everyone turned to watch the entrance. Taking advantage of this distraction; Louise pulled herself out and took in precious air.

The Princess then entered the room. Her entrance was cheered at by the students. In return she gifted them all with a warm smile, which just made the cheering louder.

Then entered the Jarl of Winterhold, wearing a rough but noble robe. He was having a conversation with Cardinal Mazarin. Behind them came the Imperial Thane Arlerus, and Motabe, his hood back on.

Louise's heart fluttered when she saw a glimpse of her fiancée, Jean-Jacques Francis, Viscount of Wardes. He however did not see her as the group made their way to reserved table at the end of the hall.

Servants rushed in carrying trays of extravagant food. Only the finest quality meats and vegetables were suitable for a gathering of such importance. The entrees were served first and were quickly devoured.

The main course however was problematic for a certain individual.

Kraldar looked at the food with distaste. Where was all the meat and ale? Even in Skyrim; political gatherings at least had passable meals.

As for this… this here hardly counted as a meal. Thin strips of heavily flavoured meat covered with other vegetables would barely be enough to feed a child, much less a grown man like himself.

The wine was not an option either. He needed to keep his head clear for later and couldn't risk having alcohol addle his brain.

Did they not have larger portions of food here? Where was the roasted meat? He would even take a single sweet role over this.

"Is your meal unsatisfactory, Lord Kraldar?" the sweet voice of the Princess broke his thoughts.

"No, no the meal is just fine. I was just thinking on other matters." He reassured her. Damnation, now he was stuck with it. He would just have to hope there was more in the second course otherwise he would have to somehow sneak away to eat with his men.

Motabe smirked in amusement as he observed the Nord.

The average Nord could probably eat nearly three time as much as an Elf, whether they could drink us under was another debate however.

Right now it was clear the Jarl didn't have enough food on his plate to satisfy him. It was admirable for him to be polite and not demand more, but he really should have just asked for more.

The Elf used the fork to impale another piece of what assumed was lamb. It was of very good quality and blessed his mouth with its taste.

Watching the Jarl pretend to be content with his meal, and failing miserably at that, was rather comical.

Good food and entertainment. Who could ask for more?

* * *

Arlerus sought out Siesta after the meal. It was decided to take a small break before they returned to talking about the future.

The Princess said that she would arrange to set up a pavilion outside to replace the stuffy classroom. Why she didn't do that before was unknown; but he supposed it was likely because she wasn't as prepared as she seemed to otherwise be.

Motabe walked beside him in silence. It was a risk for him to walk around but they took it regardless. The road to success was always rife with risks after all.

This wasn't helped by Gah-Ei deciding to see this prodigy of his. Even when not wearing his daedric armour, he couldn't help by attract attention. A walking and talking lizard was not a ordinary sight.

They found the young maid outside feeding a small blue dragon. A large plate of meat, seeds and other food lay next to her.

"Kyuuii?" the dragon raised its head from its meal to take a look at the incoming trio.

Following Sylphid's eyes, Siesta turned around and brightened at the sight of the Imperial.

"It is good to see you again, Miss Siesta." Greeted Arlerus.

"Ah… Sir Arlerus it's good to see you too." She beamed.

"Well then, introductions are in order. So Siesta this is Motabe, Archmage of the the College of Winterhold and the talking lizard is Gah-Ei, a good for nothing tramp."

The lizard did something that looked like a smirk. "It couldn't have hurt that much."

"That's because you weren't the one being hit. By the Nine, who in their right mind wakes someone up by smashing a bottle over their head?"

"You survived, there's not even a wound there. There's no need to make such a fuss about something so small. I take worse on a daily basis." Countered the Lizard.

Seeing nothing of interest Sylphid turned back to her meal. While the two argued, Motabe moved up to Siesta. "So are you the one that Arlerus has given all this praise to."

"Y…yes my Lord." She stammered in response.

Motabe frowned slightly. "I'm no lord or anything, so there is no need to address me as such."

Pulling her slightly away from the two, that was still arguing about the ethics of hitting a sleeping drunk with a bottle of ale.

"Now could you please show me the spell Arlerus taught you?" He requested.

"R…Right now?" asked Siesta in worry as she glanced around. There were several students watching from afar and casting a spell would attract a lot of bad attention.

Seeing her worry, the Archmage muttered something under his breath. The world suddenly turned grey and lifeless. Siesta started in fright. Everything seemed to have stopped, nothing was moving.

People were frozen in place almost as if there were statues. Even the small drops of saliva dripping out of Sylphid's mouth had stopped moving.

"Don't be afraid. This is just a trick I learned from an old associate of mine." The Archmage reassured her.

Shock turned to awe as she faced him. The man before her had just stopped time and dismissed it like it was a regular occurrence. So this was the Archmage of Winterhold, the city of mages.

"Now there won't be any unwelcome eyes observing us." He appeared to be in thought for a moment. "I may as well get this over with."

Slowly he pulled back his hood. This time Siesta screamed at the sight of his pointed ears. An Elf!

Her thoughts were focussed on running but her legs refused to run. Her eyes were filled with fear as the Elf moved closer to her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, that glowed green on contact, and suddenly the fear subsided.

"Calm yourself, I'm not the same Elves your people fear. I come from Winterhold not your Holy Land." He reassured.

"You're not going to kill me?" she squeaked out.

"I have no intention to hurt you or anyone else." He said warmly.

Siesta took deep breaths. So he wasn't going to hurt me. That's good at least. The previous fear seemed silly in hindsight. Sir Arlerus wouldn't have brought up all her hopes about magic only to bring an Elf to kill her.

"So, now can you show me the spell that Arlerus taught you?" he repeated.

Right, she needed to impress the Archmage to get into the College. She could do this, just like last time.

Siesta held out her hand and focussed. She felt the same strange feeling in her chest that she did the last time she tried.

It was powerful and yet brought a warm feeling to her. A small ball of purple mist slowly formed in her hand.

Arlerus's instructions echoed in her head as she flicked her wrist and dropped the ball to the ground. Like last time, a misty wolf appeared and looked at her expectantly.

Elation filled her heart. The same feeling she got from last time. She could do magic. Magic!

"And this is your only your second time doing this?" asked the Elf, no, Archmage Motabe.

She nodded her head. She didn't have the time amidst all the work she was burdened with to practice. And what precious free time she had was either spent sending a portion of her pay to her family or tending to her flowers outside. And she wasn't going to use magic in such a public place.

He scratched his chin in thought. "Well then, application to the College generally requires a proven aptitude in magic, which you have just proven. But since I can't confirm whether you really did do that spell on your first go; I'll have to you another test."

He told her about a spell called magelight. After some more in depth instructions and a demonstration; he had her to try.

Siesta once again mentally reached into the power in her chest. Though this time instead of focussing on an image of a wolf she turned her mind towards imagining the brightest light she could think of.

It was harder this time. But she managed it, as a swirl of white magic formed a ball in her hand. Compared to the seconds which she achieved the conjuration spell, this was much slower.

The Archmage didn't share this view however as his eyes widened in surprise.

The ball of light slowly raised itself of her hand. Siesta shuts her eyes in concentration as the magelight became airborne. It fledgling light barely made it off her hand when it flashed out with a blink.

Siesta spirit fell at that. She failed. She couldn't make it go up all the way. Small tears began to form in her eyes before she heard clapping.

Blinking the water away she opened her eyes to see the Archmage clapping and smiling in approval. "Well done. I had not expected you to even generate the basic form, much less get it up in the air. It appears Arlerus wasn't exaggerating."

With that admittance the colour returned to the world. Her wolf that had sat through all that was consumed by a small portal of energy before everything started moving again.

"…to hurt me" finished Arlerus who blinked in surprise, seeing the Archmage and Siesta somehow getting closer to him without his notice.

Gah-Ei likewise blinked in surprise before understanding dawned on him.

The Archmage then asked Siesta the vital question. "Siesta of Tarbes. I offer you a position of learning within the College of Winterhold. All expenses shall be covered by me and a sum will be given to you to compensate your lack of employment. By agreeing to this; you will abide by the rules of the College and will spend the next year studying to expand your knowledge of the Clever Craft. Expanding my sponsorship for further tutelage will require you to perform to the utmost excellence; slacking off and laziness will not be tolerated. Do you accept?"

Here it was. If she declined then she would keep a stable job at the College. Leaving might tarnish her reputation as an unfaithful servant and further employment in high paying noble houses was unlikely.

But if she accepted the she would learn magic. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever imagine she would get the chance to do this; and yet here it was in reality. Sir Arlerus had always told her how mages were always high in demand back in his homeland and that it was just a likely here. Not only would she become a practitioner of magic but she could get more wealth than she would she ever get from working at her current job. Her family would no longer have to worry about starving and financial issues if all went well.

So of course she gave the obvious answer.

* * *

**I'll address Louise going to Winterhold later. **

**That being said does anyone have a suggestion on what to do with currency issue? I'm trying to wrap my head around it right now and its hurting.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks for over one hundred reviews. I can now die somewhat happy knowing I accomplished something. I'm still quite keen on living, of course.**

**I'm still trying to figure out currency issue (some suggestions in the reviews are interesting), so I'll focus on other issues for now: namely the issue of Elves and then religion. And also a bit on Siesta's training. **

**Also, people seem to want Kirche and Tabitha to join the College as well. And while I can think of a reason for Tabitha to be there, I'm struggling to think of one for Kirche. Any suggestions will be appreciated. I'm don't think I will put Jessica in though, might change my mind later.**

**Anyone ever wonder why paint brushes could defy gravity and thus float in Oblivion? Or why the developers never fixed it?**

**(Edit: I should really remember to put in line breakers)**

* * *

Siesta left the head maid's office. Her contract had been returned to her to burn or resell at her discretion. There was a noticeable spring to her step as she joyfully returned to her room to pack her things.

She didn't have much to pack and she wasn't travelling far anyway. As per the Archmage's instructions: she only had to relocate herself to the same quarters the Academy gave to them. It was also the first time in a long time that she wore her own clothes.

The plain brown dress was one of the few outfits she had with her at the Academy. The only other belongings were rather simple with the exception of a steel comb that all her family chipped in to send as a birthday gift. Placing them all within a small but sturdy leather bag, she strapped it tight and left her room.

She hurriedly made her way to where Archmage Motabe had told her to be; without her maid uniform, she might get in trouble for running around. Rounding a corner she unexpectedly ran into someone with muffled blond hair.

Both she and Guiche fell to the grown, rubbing their now sore heads. "Ow! Why don't yo-" Guiche froze mid-speech, his jaw gaping. Siesta just stared back in fright, already anticipating the scolding she would receive.

Guiche's face turned pale as he quickly turned to check the otherwise empty corridors. Seeing that the man of a monster wasn't present, he hurriedly brushed himself off, mumbled a quick apology and rushed away.

Siesta just sat there, confused. Picking herself she shrugged off the incident and resumed her journey; her quick steps echoing across the empty stone corridor.

The large dormitory requisitioned by the Princess was where the Jarl and his party temporarily resided. Two intimidating heavy guards stood watch out the front door. Idle chatter was heard from them, though neither let their eyes stray.

Nervously Siesta walked towards them, upon seeing her; the two Nord guards stopped talking. "Halt! What business do you have here?" one of them demanded. His partner's hand unconsciously slipped to his blade's hilt out of habit.

This did not go unnoticed by Siesta, who paled at the sight. "Um…a…" she swallowed. Mustering up her courage she gave her reason. "The Archmage told me to come here."

The guards visibly relaxed, the threatening one's hand left his sword. "Aye and you must be Siesta of Tarbes then?" Siesta nodded quickly in response.

The first guard opened the door and gestured for her to enter. "The Archmage is waiting for you. He's on the second floor, just up the stairs, the first door to the left." He instructed. "Don't keep him waiting, Apprentice." advised the second guard.

Heeding his advice she hurried in. The corridor was mostly empty with the exception of a trio of soldiers having their own conversation. Ignoring them, she stepped up the wooden stairs.

She must have made a lot of noise or the Archmage had some means of detecting people as before she could even knock, she was told to enter. Opening the door, she stepped into a rather mundane room.

It was of the usual Tristainian design, with only the barest of furniture. She could not help but feel disappointed. Perhaps it was the feat of magic she witnessed yesterday which made her expect the room to feel more… magical; perhaps some extra-dimensional portal back to his magic tower? Shaking her head she got rid of that image from her head. Who knows what kind of demons could come out?

The Archmage was sitting on a small wooden desk reading a white book, his hood down to reveal his Elven heritage. Beside the desk was a large chest, kept shut by some strange metal lock. He closed the book and got up with her entry. "Good morning Siesta." he greeted kindly.

She bowed deeply, her head drawing level with her chest. The Elf before her deserved only the most respect she could give. "Good morning Archmage."

Pulling open his chest, he lifted out a set of robes. "This is the standard apprentice robes for the College. You don't have to wear it all the time, but it is expected for you to be wearing it whenever you're either studying at the College or on official occasions." he explained.

Siesta accepted the clothes from him. It was of simple design with a navy blue silk shirt and brown trousers. With it was a brown shawl and another blue clock reaching down to her knees but leaving her right shoulder uncovered. A hood was tucked behind it.

"You'll stay with us for the time being. As such, I'll be the one teaching you for now, until we return to the College." he then took out several more books of the trunk. "I'm afraid that you'll have to make do with books for the time being. I'm required to be with the Jarl to meet with the Princess."

Out of the seemingly small trunk came more books, parchment, an ink well and a quill and a large wooden staff that couldn't possibly have fit in there. "If you need help you can ask one of the Jarl's battlemages. I've spoken to them and they don't mind giving you advice."

Placing all of the items onto Siesta's outstretched hands; he hurried them out of the room. Leading her to an empty nearby room, he told her this is where she would stay for now. "I'm sorry that I can't stay, but I really need to go." said the Archmage; as he helped her lay down all the items.

Hurrying out of the room, he left Siesta confused once again alone in the room. Sighing, she decided to do as the Archmage instructed and opened one of the books. While she wasn't excellent at her literacy, the Academy ensured that their all servants were at least capable of reading.

This meant naught however as she found that whatever language these books were written in were not hers. It looks like she would have to ask for help.

* * *

Motabe arrived later than the rest of his group. Arlerus and the Jarl were already seated inside the spacious pavilion that the Princess had set up. The Princess and Cardinal were seated opposite them, with the Griffin Knight Captain stiff still behind the leaders of Tristain.

Separating them was a large ornate table; on it were several plates of fruit and cold pure water. Idly the Archmage wondered how much trouble it must have been to relocate a table of that size outside.

Upon his entry, Arlerus and Henrietta stopped their conversation about the differences in weather. The Jarl lost the look of boredom on his face and the Cardinal and Wardes both turned to look at him.

"My apologies for my lateness, but I was caught up in personal business." Motabe apologized. He slowly walked towards the free chair to the left of the Jarl.

"It's no problem at all." reassured Henrietta. She offered a warm smile as he took a seat next to the Jarl. Settling himself in and making sure the entry flap was closed he pulled off his hood. Wardes visably flinched at the sight of his ears but made no other move in response.

The Princess and the Cardinal were much more guarded in their responses upon seeing the trademark pointed ears of the Elves. The Cardinal's eyes hardened slightly, not surprising considering his position within the Church. Henrietta moved in her chair, her gown's shifted cloth creases being the only indication of this.

"So is your new apprentice settled in?" asked the Jarl softly. Motabe nodded slightly in response. The Jarl gave a grunt of approval as he turned his attention back to the Tristainians.

"Now I believe we were discussing the issue of Elves." started Arlerus. Motabe nodded grimly; the rest of yesterday's discussions had reached no conclusion as they argued about what to do about the Elves of Winterhold.

While Orcs and the beastfolk would be alright, Elves were ruled out. Tristain was apparently unwilling to accommodate their age old enemies, even if said Elves had never heard of them.

The rest of the room grimaced. Yesterday had escalated badly; with the Jarl and the Cardinal having an extremely loud shouting match, while the rest of them tried to get them to calm down.

It was the entrance of a guard that informed them than dinner was ready which ceased the argument. Wisely, it was decided to continue talks in the morning, when people's heads have cooled down.

"Yes. We were." affirmed the Princess; her welcoming smile gone now and replaced with a frown as she recalled the past day.

"So then, do you have any new proposals on how to get over this?" asked Arlerus; his head coming to rest on his hands.

The Princess glanced to Cardinal Mazarin. Mazarin nodded and got ready to speak on her behalf. "We have no desire to have hostilities with the Elves of Winterhold, but neither can we accept them roaming freely across Tristain and the whole of Halkengenia. It would be best if they told to remain within the borders of Winterhold."

Motabe narrowed his eyes at the Cardinal. "And if we Elves choose to leave the boundaries of Winterhold?" he inquired; already expecting the answer he would receive.

"Then they will have to be forced to return." answered the Cardinal. The leaders of Winterhold reacted negatively to this. They conferred together slightly before the Jarl spoke for them.

"We cannot accept such an obviously racist proposition." declared the Jarl. Beside him Arlerus and Motabe nodded their agreement.

This was a heavily contentious one. While the Princess personally had no real animosity towards Elves, the same could not be said for all her subjects however. And she was well aware of that fact.

"It may be racist but it is necessary. If Elves from Winterhold were to freely travel Tristain, then there is no guarantee of their safety." she beseeched. The Elves couldn't be allowed to leave Winterhold, even if they were different to the ones they know; their pointed ears would cause fear and panic wherever they go.

There was also no telling of how Romalia and the church would react to this. With the Reconquista threat looming in Albion, and the military build-up of both Gallia and Germania in response to this; civil insecurity and fear among the populace was hardly what Tristain needed right now.

"So you would ask us to imprison thousands of my people?" demanded the Jarl, his face red with indignation.

To Henrietta's credit, she was unflinching as she faced a man who could probably kill her with his bare hands. "Only from leaving the boundaries of the lands of Winterhold." she stated calmly.

Motabe seethed. While he could see the logic behind her proposal, it did not make it any less immoral. Doing this would make them almost like the Thalmor.

"This will not do. Even if you have something against Elves, it is immoral and impractical for us to restrict all Elves within our hold." interjected Arlerus. He folded his arms as he stared hard at the Princess. "And if you fear that Elves walking in Tristain would cause panic; what is stopping a panic from happening if Tristainians enter Winterhold? Would it not be the same?" he pointed out.

"We will make an official proclamation declaring the 'risks' of entering Winterhold. So any travelling there will at least have some idea of what to expect." said the Cardinal.

"By 'risks', are you suggesting that us Elves would be as savage to attack peaceful travellers?" accused Motabe. His leaned forward on his chair, his posture aggressive, as he almost dared the Cardinal to insult him.

"We hardly have any proof as to how 'peaceful' your people are." responded the Cardinal coolly, his eyes ice cold. Despite his age, you could almost feel the aura of authority he held around him.

The tension in the air was overbearing. It was like a cup of water threatening to spill. Ever the peace bringer, Henrietta once again tried to regain so peace in the room. Unfortunately the issue of Elves was too big of an issue to ignore, especially to a Cardinal of the Church.

"Only yesterday we received a report of nearly three dozen dead commoners on the roads. The same roads that you were reported to travel along… I wonder what could have happened?" said the Cardinal in a sarcastic tone.

The Jarl snorted in dismissal. "We were defending ourselves against hostile _Tristainians_" he told them. "Perhaps you should take better care of your people and then they wouldn't need to go criminal on you." he suggested dryly, as an insult more than genuine advice.

"I'm sure your 'hold' is a perfect place with no strife. But we Tristainians have _real_ issues to handle." responded the Cardinal; fighting fire with fire.

"Yes, maybe like that burglar I keep hearing about that has been robbing everyone lately. He's got you all riled up hasn't he." The Jarl gave the Cardinal a large smile, though it was anything but friendly. "Once again; the same advice goes."

Before the Cardinal could respond with a rejoinder, Henrietta slammed her palms on the smooth wood table. "We are not here to trade insults but to discuss the issue of Elves. Now both of you quiet down so we can get back to topic." She loudly commanded, as she ignored the pain from her hands.

The Cardinal obeyed reluctantly while the Jarl looked ready to continue if not for Motabe placing a restraining hand on his shoulder. It would have looked like a show of support; if not for the fact the hand was obviously straining to keep the Jarl in his chair.

"Now: you don't want to limit your people." she said to the Jarl. "While I admit the terms are harsh, I will not shift from them. This is for the best for both mine and your citizens." The Jarl looked ready to argue before he was cut down by the Princess. "This change is too great to rush things. Perhaps when people are more tolerant of your Elves, then we will consider changing the terms. Until then they are not to leave Winterhold." She said, trying to not shout out.

The room was silent from her outburst. "Your Highness, we-"Henrietta interrupted Arlerus before he could finish. "This is non-negotiable. If you refuse to enforce this then we will rescind the protection of Tristain. Do you understand." she said harshly.

The Imperial Thane grimaced before nodding. "I will ensure there will be no acts of violence from Tristain's side. If there are; then you are free to deal with them however you see fit, whether they be noble or commoner." she added, softening her tone.

The Jarl merely grunted in response. The concession to allow them to execute any troublemakers was something at least.

Motabe was still angry but kept his boiling anger inside. He had spent a large portion of his life being discriminate against for being an Elf and mage in Skyrim. If he could endure that, then he could endure this humiliation.

"And what of our religion then? Will you try to make us forsake our faith in the Nine as well?" the Jarl questioned.

The Princess hesitated at that. Steeling herself she shook her head. "We will not do such a thing. There will likely be issues with the Church in Romalia at a later time but we have no wish to impose our own faith in you as long as you share the same courtesy." she answered honestly.

If the Romalian Church had issue with this then they can pursue it on their own. With the ban of Elves from Tristain, they would hardly accept any more radical restrictions. And that was likely already pushing the limits of what they were willing to accept.

Likewise Winterhold couldn't leave their protector status only a day after they accepted it without massive repercussions from Tristain. Annexation would likely be a more acceptable alternative to what would happen in Tristain invaded with their soldiers reeling from injured national pride.

Once again, the bothersome servant interrupted them for lunch. Revising yesterday's routine, they chose to have lunch within the pavilion. The Archmage pulled back on his hood; as Arlerus instructed the guards to roll up one of the sides of the large blue pavilion to allow in some air.

A ring of guards formed up around the pavilion. Their presence kept onlookers from getting too close to the pavilion. And there were a lot of people outside wanting to get a look at what was happening.

The arrival of strange men and the Princess meeting with the foreigners for extended amounts of time draws a lot of attention. They knew something of grand importance was taking place within the pavilion; and more than a few were willing to risk sneaking closer to catch some news. And not all of them were innocent students looking for excitement.

* * *

Gah-Ei sat on the grass as he ate out of a plate. The loud noises and chaos that was the Alviss Hall was long behind him.

He was here with the only a few other familiars in a solitary courtyard. Everyone else had apparently decided to relocate to a position where they could see the Princess. Taking advantage of this; Gah-Ei had decided to move here to eat and thus avoid all the stares he had been receiving.

Unfortunately he had attracted the attention of a blue dragon. It looked nothing like the ones he had ever seen. Its arms were separate with its wings; and its hide seemed more smooth and soft compared to the jagged skin of the dragons he usually encountered.

Seeing that it was staring at his last piece of meat, he had held it out to let him take a bite. The dragon then chomped down on it and snatched the entire piece of cooked steak out of his hand.

Gah-Ei took a moment to stare at his now empty hand; he lifted his head back up to the dragon just in time to see it devour the rest of his meat. The dragon then turned back to him with pleading eyes, no doubt wanting more.

"Drehni kun pah do nii._ (Don't take all of it)_" He reprimanded. Since this was obviously not one of the dragons of Tamriel, he didn't expect an answer really. But the boom of his voice should be enough to show his dissatisfaction with it.

The dragon's head perked up in surprise. "Hi tinvaak voth razaan? _(You speak with the Rhyme?)_" it asked in barely supressed excitement. Its wings flapped repeatedly in quick succession as it quivered in joy.

Gah-Ei widened his eye. Was the Dovahzul universal for all dragons? And what was the Rhyme? "Fos los razaan?_ (What is the Rhyme)_" he asked in interest,

He received no answer as it then released a shrill of happiness. Its legs crouched down slightly as if t- the dragon then pounced on him. He collapse under the weight that was the blue dragon as it began licking his face. "Nii fraan ful pruzah wah tinvaak ko razaan einzuk. Saak briinah said ni wah tinvaak nuz nii los ful unos wah ni tinvaak._ (It feels so good to talk in rhythm again. Big sister said not to talk but it is so boring to not speak.)_

He could not even get a word out as the dragon shifted its weight and pushed the breath out of him. "Saak briinah said ni wah tinvaak ko jul nuz Zu'u los tinvaakvon ko razaan ful rek fen ni gaav hren. _(Big sister said not to speak in human but I'm speaking in rhythm so she won't get mad.)_"

It then tilted its head in thought. "Nuz rek said ni wah tinvaak wah naangein nuz ek rem. _(But she also said not to speak to anyone but her too.)_" the dragon eye's then widened in fright. "Oo nid, nid, nid. Zu'u broke saak briinah mu'ul. _(Oh no, no, no. I broke Big Sister's rules.)_

"Gaav vau do zey… zu'u vis sum. _(Get off of me… I can't breathe)_" Gah-Ei croaked out. Judging by how the dragon kept fretting and was now scratching its head for excuses, it likely didn't hear his pleas. The growing strain on his chest did not help his situation.

As Gah-Ei struggled to keep breathing, the blue dragon suddenly tilted its head as if it was listening to something. Without further warning it kicked off the ground and took off towards one of the Academy's towers.

Gah-Ei skidded along the ground as he was pushed away from where the dragon took off. Eventually breaking his painful journey on a tree, he moaned in pain. The other familiars who had been watching now lost interest as the dragon flew away. They returned to their meals and tuned out the painful moans of the Argonian.

* * *

A petite blue haired girl was sitting on the edge of the wall; as she observed the Tristainian Royal Party having a meal with the men from Winterhold. Her staff was clutched close to her chest with one hand as she pretended to read a book with the other.

They were a strange people. Like them and yet so different. The difference was subtle but to a keen observer it was there. The way the moved, that they kept looking around warily at random intervals, and the speed at which they reacted to possible threats; this seemed to suggest that danger was constant where they came from.

"Sylphid" she acknowledged as her familiar as the young Rhyme dragon landed near her. "Kyuuuiii!" the dragon responded. Without reason, the dragon then scratched her underbelly.

Recognising the prearranged signal, Tabitha muttered a short spell. Immediately the noise around them was cut off. Nodding her permission to speak, Sylphid mellowed out.

"Irukuku is sorry Big Sister. Irukuku didn't mean to break your rules. Irukuku is sorry." she spewed out.

Tabitha froze. Irukuku was one of the now supposedly extinct Rhyme Dragons that had been hunted to extinction for body parts to use as reagents. The knowledge that there was one left would attract all kinds of bad attention. It didn't help that Irukuku was just so… innocent to the way the world works. So to protect her identity as one, she had ordered her not to talk to anyone aside from herself.

"Who?" Tabitha asked the crestfallen dragon. Irukuku looked up. "Irukuku no know big lizard man's name. Irukuku is sorry." She repeated again.

A big lizard man that could talk? That was almost certainly going to be the one that came with the foreigners from Winterhold.

"Why?" she asked. While childish and clumsy, she didn't think Irukuku would purposefully speak to another person.

Irukuku's eyes lit back up. "Ah! The big lizard man could speak with the rhyme. Irukuku thought he was scary at first but then he gave Irukuku some tasty meat. Then he spoke with the rhyme."

"Rhyme?" Tabitha asked, confused about what her familiar was talking about.

"Rhyme is rhyme. But lizard man doesn't speak like other rhyme dragons. Irukuku speaks like whoosh like the wind but big lizard man spoke like thunder." Irukuku elaborated.

Closing her book, Tabitha got up and mounted Irukuku. "Go to big lizard man." She commanded. Noticing that the spell hiding their conversation was gone Irukuku only kyuuuuid in response.

* * *

**For all those interested there is a community-driven lexicon for the dragon language in Skyrim. Since I don't think I'm allowed to post links to websites; just google 'thuum' and it should be the first search.**


	9. Chapter 9

**So if 3000 ecu is worth a holiday home and a fully upgraded homestead is around 18000 (I actually counted the total cost of the base value of every building material, unless furnish option was given, to 17759 but rounded it up.) septims, then ecu should be worth more. The blacksmith in volume one stated that an average broadsword was worth 200 ecu but to honest; he was probably trying to swindle a naïve Louise, so I won't take that in account. **

**However since I have no idea what Louise's idea of a holiday home is, I'm going to assume it's probably going to be a about the same size as a fully furnished Hearthfire homestead. So if 1 ecu is 6 livres (according to the wikia) then one septim should be the rough equivalent of 1 livres. **

**Anyone else find the Three Billy-Goats Gruff Easter Egg funny or is it just me?**

* * *

Gah-Ei's ribcage creaked as he limped across the open courtyard. This was why he always wore armour everywhere he went; so surprises wouldn't hurt so much. Back in the old days, when the dragons had only just returned, a man could walk around in full combat gear and no one would bat an eye. Nowadays with decades of peace, walking around in full armour always attracted the attention of guards and people would always eye you suspiciously.

Hearing the dreaded flapping of wings, he froze in place. Turning slowly, he found himself face to face with the same blue dragon as before. Riding it was a small blue haired girl wielding a long wooden staff.

"Fos dreh hi laan nu _(What do you want now?)_" he asked apprehensively. He had no more meat to give and he definitely wasn't looking forward to another 'hug' from the excitable dragon.

"How?" the petite girl asked from her seat on the dragon's back. How could he speak the rhyme like the Rhyme Dragons?

Gah-Ei was confused. "Landstrider, it's polite to introduce yourself before one starts asking questions." He said.

The girl thought over it for a moment before answering. "Tabitha." She was obviously not the talkative type; using single words to express herself. Patting the dragon's head she uttered "Syphid".

"I am Gah-Ei or Great-Eyes as most call me." He introduced, trying to do a small bow but his damaged body refused to comply. His reptilian eyes focussed on the girl, ignoring the curious eyes of the dragon. "And now; what did you want to know?"

Curiously, the girl lifted her staff into the air and though her lips moved; her words were too soft for Gah-Ei to hear it. A strange sensation jolted Gah-Ei's body as his eyes widened slightly in surprise.

He could not see the effect but he could definitely hear it, or couldn't hear it. He was no real mage, only knowing the most basic of spells, but he was familiar with the majority of known spells; since he was also the one to often be on the receiving end for better or for worse.

This spell was nothing he had ever encountered. It was a form of ward, that he certain of, but wards were usually used to stop physical objects and spells; this seemed to only prevent noise from entering. There wasn't even anything to see that would indicate the use of the ward.

"What is this?" he asked in wonder. He observed how even the whispers of the wind couldn't reach him now.

"Prevents overhearing." replied Tabitha in the usual monotone. Sylphid nodded her head vigorously, as if agreeing with her master.

The Argonian nodded his understanding. So whatever was going to be said; Tabitha wanted it to be quiet. "So what did you want to know?" he asked again.

"Speaking Rhyme. How?" she asked.

Gah-Ei was confused again. He distinctly remembered Sylphid mentioning something about rhyme while she was crushing him with her weight. But because of just that, he couldn't remember exactly.

"What's this rhyme?" he answered with a question of his own. He had a sneaking suspicion that it was the dovahzul they were talking about; but he needed to confirm it.

Tabitha's expressionless gaze homed into his eyes. It was a bit eerie how she stared at him. "Hi tinvaak ko razaan zeyda ruz _(You talked in the Rhyme just then)_" informed Syphid, in her master's place.

This confirmed his suspicion. The Rhyme was the language of the dragons, just under a different name. "In my world, it is called the Dovahzul; the dragon language." he explained.

Nodding, Tabitha then ventured onto another question. "Common?" she asked. Despite how little she spoke; she still manages to give the meaning behind her questions quite well.

Shaking his head, he answered. "No. Only Dragons and Nord are naturally able to use it; and it's rare to find a Nord that can actually speak it."

Tabitha took a moment to let the information to sink in; her brain developing and comprehending the information being received. It took only a few seconds for her to reach a discrepancy. She knew Nord were essentially bigger humans. And despite Great-Eyes being a lizard; she didn't think he was a dragon.

"How?" she repeated, pointing her staff at the Argonian. If Dragons and Nords are only ones able to inherently speak it, then how was he able to speak Rhyme?

"Ah… I'm a unique case." answered the Argonian, understanding her question, despite its vagueness. "I don't claim to know why the Nine gifted with this though."

"Nine?" inquired Tabitha, her face finally showing some emotion; that being interest. Sylphid, however, appears to have lost interest in the conversation and had taken to seat herself comfortably on the grass. Tabitha seemed undisturbed by the motions of her familiar as the dragon shifted herself.

"The Eight Aedra introduced by Saint Alessia and alongside Tiber Septim, or Talos now, make up the Nine Divines." As a devoted believer of the Nine, he knew far more than what the majority of people knew.

"Aedra?" asked Tabitha. If she had this many questions; then it was going to take a while.

* * *

"Louise, my darling! Where are you? "called out Kirche; as she strode along the empty corridors of the girls dorm.

So far the little pint sized girl had proven elusive to her search, but she had no doubt that Louise would eventually be found by her. She had never backed down from a challenge, and finding the missing girl was as good as any challenge.

In truth, she was growing slightly worried about the Valliere. Though many would assume they hated each other; in truth Kirche felt little animosity towards Louise. And Louise had been missing since this morning when she was called up to the Headmaster's office.

Inquiring there, she was turned away by the green haired Headmaster's Secretary; citing their unwillingness to share private conversations.

After a rough search of the crowd outside the Princesses pavilion she sighed in disappointment. Kirche had heard rumours of how Louise and the Tristainian Princess were childhood friends; and she had noticed how Louise had blushed at the sight of the handsome Viscount. So if she was anywhere, then this would be the place.

Unfortunately her theory had proven wrong as the Pinkette had not been mingling with the crowd.

But she would not give up. A Zerbst did not give up that easily, especially if it's related to their rivals; the Vallieres.

But if Louise wasn't in her room or the Alviss Hall; then where could she be? The classrooms were closed to everyone but the teachers and servants; and she just checked outside the Royal Pavillion. That left only the library, Vestri Court and the boy's dorm.

Kirche immediantly ruled out the last; as Louise wouldn't even dare think of joining her… 'Adventures' there. So that left the library and the Vestri Court.

Trying the Vestri Court first; she didn't find Louise, but she did find something. Tabitha was always a quiet type; the exact opposite to her. So it was not often you would find her having a conversation with anyone other than Kirche and occasionally Louise, by extension.

So it was to Kirche's greatest surprise to find Tabitha having a conversation with the lizard that wore demon armour. She couldn't hear the words for some reason but it seemed more like the lizard was doing all the talking with Tabitha saying something every now and then. Still getting Tabitha to say more than a few words was an accomplishment by itself.

"Tabitha, so this is where you hid yourself." she called out as she drew nearer. Tabitha lifted her head slightly and spotted Kirche. Her noise nullifying spell disappeared as Kirche got too close for comfort.

"I need your help finding Louise." Kirche said as she gripped hold of Tabitha's shoulders. Gah-Ei raised his eye lids. He had heard of that name from somewhere.

"Missing?" inquired Tabitha, her small hands prying Kirche off her calmly.

"Haven't seen her since yesterday. So come on, let's go find her." urged Kirche. Taking a look at the lizard, she smirked. "Your new friend can come along too." she added.

Tabitha glanced at the Argonian, the single word question already on her lips. Waving her away, he nodded. "No need to ask. I don't mind helping." Taking a glance at Sylphid, Gah-Ei shuddered. "As long as you keep Sylphid off me." he quickly added.

Sylphid nodded her head in response as Tabitha instructed her to not 'hug' Great-Eyes. With that done, the three plus the dragon set off towards the only plausible place left: the Academy Library.

* * *

Louise huddled closer in her little corner of the vast library. Her feet drawn in as she cried her heart out. Her eyes were shot red as they filled with tears.

A failure that's what she was. Just like what her tormenters had always said: A Zero; someone who couldn't do anything right. A Zero that just failed at everything.

She thought everything was going to be alright with the summoning of her ghost wolf, but that was just an illusion she used to delude herself. Making a fake familiar with foreign magic didn't count.

The headmaster had confirmed it himself. She had been kicked out of the Academy. After the dreaded words, she had tuned out the rest of what he had to say. But whatever she missed wouldn't matter. What mattered was that she was going to be sent back home, in disgrace, to confront her mother.

The mention of her mother brought forth fresh tears to her eyes. When she was younger, her mother would don her old armour to scare her for punishment. And while her anger was something Louise still feared; she feared her disappointment even more.

She could already imagine the disappointment on her face for having a failure of a daughter. All the hope and trust in Louise's potential would be betrayed.

She would be disowned and cast off like the failure she was. She deserved no better.

Would her family even miss her? Probably not. Her parents would be glad to get rid of the stain on the Valliere's long shining history and Eleanor had always said she had no talent at magic.

Cattleya might miss her. She always was the kind sister that had always supported her no matter what and she would just be another one that she would disappoint.

She heard the door open, the creaking of the heavy oak door unmistakable. She could make out shadows, illuminated by the sunlight that shone into the dim room.

"Are you sure Miss Valliere is in here, Miss Zerbst." Professor Colbert asked sceptically.

Kirche looked at her teacher in mock anger. "I already checked everywhere else where she could be; so Louise must be in here."

What were they doing here? Haven't they made fun of her life enough already?

Louise moved further into the shadow of the bookcase, the darkness concealing her form. Right now she didn't want to see anyone, especially Zerbst.

"Found you!" Louise squeaked at the sudden cry of victory from Zerbst. How could she have found her that fast?

"I heard a noise from there." someone said in a raspy voice. Though she could see Kirche, Louise just knew she had a cocky smile on her face as she had just tricked her into revealing her hiding spot. Louise had the familiar desire to punch her rival in the face right now.

"I knew that would work! Louise is so predictable sometimes." exclaimed Kirche proudly. With her emotions in disarray; who could fault Louise when she actually lashed out at the one who neared her hiding spot.

Her punch came into contact with the hard scaly skin under the woollen shirt that Gah-Ei wore. Pain exploded in Louise's hand as she quickly withdrew it. "Aaah!" she cried out in pain.

Looking up she found herself facing a large reptilian creature, looking deep into its eyes, she recognized something that looked like concern.

"Are you alright little landstrider?" the Argonian asked. The punch had barely hurt him but looking at Louise's bleeding hand; it appeared the same could not be said for the human girl.

"Of course I'm not!" Louise yelled back, her face distorted with pain. Her hand was a mess, two of her fingers were bent at weird angles and her hand was covered in bleeding cuts. By the Founder; what was that lizard's skin made of?

The rest of her searchers arrived at her hiding spot, their faces concerned; so much for hiding.

"Here, I know some basic restoration." said the lizard, as he stretched out a glowing hand emitting bright orange light. He left his hand on top of her wounded hand as the magic began.

Louise could only watch in surprised fascination as her hand mended itself. It was slow, but her cuts slowly closed itself up; while her broken fingers snapped back into place with a sickening cracking noise. Louise winced at that; not because it hurt but rather because of what she knew had just happened.

It was don't in a matter of moments. Her hand was back to its healthy state; it was like she had never actually punched the scaled lizard man.

Her fascination faded as she remembered the situation she was in right now. Tabitha, KIrche, Professor Colbert and the strange lizard surrounded her little hideaway.

Her negative feelings returned as she observed her searchers. "What do you want Zerbst? Here to laugh at the Zero?" she spat at the Germanian.

Kirche actually recoiled at that. "N..no I'm-" "…just here to tell you I was always right!" finished Louise in anger.

"Well just say it then. I'm the Founder forsaken Zero! The one that can't do anything right!" Louise was shouting now, her anger pouring over boiling point. "What more do you want from me Zerbst? Just leave me alone!"

Kirche Augusta Frederica von Anhalt-Zerbst was unsure of what to do. She hadn't intended any serious bad will on the Valliere scion. And her teasing wasn't intended to actually hurt Louise, just incite her to do better.

As Kirche hesitated, Louise went on. "I hate you KIrche! Go away!"

Kirche then hugged Louise, softly mumbling apologies. "I'm sorry Louise. I'm really sorry." Louise looked surprised at the apology as her teary eyes widened.

"D…Don't think that a simple ap-"stammered Louise. "Hit me." commanded Kirche. Again Louise was surprised, hit her?

Kirche tilted her head towards Louise. The Germanian then lifted Louise's shaking hand with her own towards her own cheek. "Hit me Louise." she commanded again.

"B…bu…but…" stammered Louise. Sure she wanted to hit her and she did just lash out a moment ago in rage; but to actually hit her on purpose.

"HIT ME!" loudly repeated Kirche a third time. A loud smack echoed across the library as Louise's hand connected with Kirche's cheek.

"Owww… You hit harder than I thought." complained Kirche as she rubbed her reddening cheek. Seeing that Louise was now stone stiff in disbelief; she smiled. "Feel better?" she asked.

Louise didn't respond, her face frozen in surprise as she stared at the hand that slapped Kirche. Despite her stinging face, Kirche smiled again at Louise. "Feel better?" she asked again.

When Louise didn't respond a second time; she sighed. Motioning for Tabitha to come closer she whispered something to her. The bluenette nodded and incanted a small spell.

Her hands now freezing cold, Kirche situated herself directly in front of Louise; kneeling down to reach Louise's slumped form. Quickly she placed her shivering hands onto Louise's cheeks; sighing in relief slightly as her hands drew warmth from Louise.

Louise didn't react for a moment; her own hand slowly moving up to touch Kirche's. Once she confirmed that Kirche was indeed doing what she thought she was; she reacted violently.

"Gah! C..Cold! What do you think you're doing… you… you… ?" Louise shouted as she drew back from Kirche's freezing hands.

"Fufufu… looks like the usual Louise is back." said Kirche, a big cocky smile on her face. Louise reacted violently as she continued to shout insults at the Germanian.

"Ahem… We're still here you now." interrupted Professor Colbert; standing in the exact same spot as before. Beside him, Gah-Ei had found a chair from somewhere and was sitting leisurely on it as he waited for them to finish.

"P…Professor Colbert! What are you doing here?" asked Louise in horror. Had he just watched what just happened?

"Well I was looking for you to confirm you moving to the College of Winterhold." Replied Colbert calmly.

Everyone aside from the Professor was surprised. "W… Wh… What?" stammered Louise. When was it decided that she would go there?

"The College of Winterhold? What's that?" asked Kirche in confusion. Oh right; she doesn't know.

"The College is the most prestigious facility to learn magic within Skyrim. Only the most gifted and skilled are able to find entry into its halls." answered Gah-Ei. He stared at Louise, which made her nervous.

That was where he had heard the name Louise before. Arlerus had mentioned her during their short journey. She was the one that summoned the entire hold to this land. Sizing her up; she looked nothing like what he had envisioned.

"Oh… then why's Louise going there?" asked Kirche. Colbert hesitated in finding an answer. Telling Miss Zerbst would ruin the whole point of keeping Louise's summoning a secret; though judging by the knowing look on the Argonian and the narrowed eyes of Tabitha; it was likely they already knew.

"Louise's summoning." hinted Tabitha; her face blank as she looked up to stare at Colbert. "Investigation of summoning held there?" she asked in interest.

Colbert sighed. _So much for keeping it a secret._ "Yes; Louise's strange summoning will be investigated there." he confirmed.

"Wait, wait, wait. I think I'm missing out on something. What did Louise summon? All her spell brought was snow." interjected Kirche; confusion returning to her as she tried to figure out what was going on.

"She summoned all of Winterhold." stated Gah-Ei. "Though I'm not sure why she needs to go to Winterhold to study her summoning. Wouldn't it be better to work towards a counter-spell here?" he questioned; his eyes shifting to Colbert for answers.

"Old Osmond and your Archmage decided on this, not me. Apparently they thought it was for best that Miss Valliere move to Winterhold for the time being." answered Colbert; resigned to the fact that nothing could be kept secret in this Academy.

"Wait; don't I get a say in this?" demanded Louise, her hands using the cuffs of her sleeve to wipe away what was left of the tears.

Colbert looked at her strangely. "Miss Valliere; you nodded your agreement when we asked in the Headmaster's office. Remember?"

Louise took a moment to recollect her memories and blushed when she realized she hadn't paid attention after the headmaster had mention her leaving the Academy. "Y…Yes I remember now." she agreed meekly.

Colbert looked at her unconvinced. "No one if forcing you to do this Mis- no Louise. If you don't want to we will arrange for transport back to the De la Valliere estates." he assured her.

At the mention of returning home; Louise shook her head quickly. "N…NO, I don't mind." she reassured her teacher.

Colbert nodded. "Well I'll be coming with you so there is no need to worry."

Louise felt slightly better at the admission. At least she wouldn't be completely left alone there.

"So… um why is Louise going there again?" asked Kirche. "I mean you were there when the told her to go to this College weren't you Professor Colbert?" The Argonian nodded, as he also wanted to know.

Colbert cursed inwardly. He had hoped by giving them a vague answer and hurrying on; they would forget about it. Glancing around to ensure the library was empty aside from them, he considered his options.

If it was just Louise and the Argonian here then telling them the real reasons wouldn't be a problem. But both Kirche and Tabitha answered to foreign monarchs' and were liable to tell them.

Especially Tabitha; he had a suspicion that the Gallian was more than she let on. She seemed far too experienced and skilled than even a genius should normally be. It was always the quiet ones that were the most dangerous.

"I'm sorry but this is matter of privacy for Louise." he replied stiffly. Hopefully Miss Valliere would have enough political sense to-

"Um… I don't remember why exactly too. Could you please tell me again?" asked Louise, flushed at her admittance of ignoring their earlier conversation.

Miss Valliere had just failed his expectations for how politically savvy he thought she was.

With Louise more or less wanting him to answer now, and no possible way to discreetly brush the conversation aside, he resigned himself. "Well put simply: we don't know how to teach Louise." he admitted.

The Valliere scion was always a source of confusion for the teaching staff. No one could doubt her dedication to study and her written work was always impeccable. Unfortunately her practical work was always… explosive as a result.

It didn't take much knowledge to realize that she was incapable of casting any of the four elements. Unlike the students; the teachers knew that she could use magic. One couldn't destroy an entire room with a simple transmute spell if they didn't have magic. Some of the other professors had even joked about how she was a void element user.

The Headmaster had, in his eternal wisdom, decided that they should transfer Miss Valliere to the College; on the off chance that they could teach her some of their magic.

Privately Colbert suspected that by sending him along as a 'supervisor' the Headmaster actually intended for him to investigate the foreign magic that these Winterhold mages wielded. And if possible bring back notes and tomes on how to use it; upon his return.

The fact that he was talking with their Archmage about exchanging classes was a testament to this. What better ways to understand Winterhold magic than to have them teach their own students?

"Miss Valliere would be safer there." he finally admitted. He might as well let it all out.

"Safe? From what?" asked Gah-Ei.

"From the… more extreme side of our religion." Colbert answered seriously. The Dragonborn narrowed his eyes. He had more than a few encounters with fanatics though, admittedly, most of them were Daedra worshippers. "And why would that be dangerous?"

"Like your Winterhold; not everyone would take well to your appearance in Tristain. Especially if there were Elves brought in too." the balding professor replied.

Kirche gasped while Tabitha widened her eyes in surprise. Elves? There were Elves where Louise and Colbert were going?

"Miss Valliere, Miss Zerbst, Miss Tabitha. I would consider it a favour to Tristain if you kept this knowledge to yourselves." he warned them.

Kirche nodded but Tabitha hesitated. Thinking it over; she finally slowly nodded her assent.

It was her duty as a Knight of the North Parterre to send this information back to Gallia. She was well aware of what the Gallian King, her uncle: Joseph de Gallia, would do to her mother if he noticed her failure to tell him.

But he would find out eventually; even without her reports. So unless he directly orders her; she'll hold off telling him. Even if it was just for a little bit longer; she wanted to protect the few precious beings that she could call friends.

* * *

**Does anyone know what Tabitha's last name was? I'm not asking for her real one but the one she used under her alias.**


	10. Chapter 10

**One of the things I like best in Skyrim is how bandits no longer came at you wearing daedric armour at high levels like they did in Oblivion. It really made no sense how poor bandits could actually afford to use daedric, ebony and glass armour.**

**I wrote the first part to show that there will still be a few dragons that refuse to follow the peaceful way of the Voice and mostly because I don't like Count Mott too much.**

* * *

An extravagant carriage rode down the paved road. A troop of footmen rode along with it, four out front with another twelve ridding as rear guard; more than enough to deter any bandit. Two servants sat on the carriage as they drove it.

The valley they were currently traversing was empty of life. Thick forest covered both sides of the road and a distant hill could be spotted.

The most defining feature was the whiteness of the horizon to the east. There had been rumours of a strange new snowy land with fierce people. And the people that lived closest to where the snow fell whispered about how they heard and saw dragons.

Count Mott lounged within his carriage. His journey to the Academy of Tristain had been eventful so far and he saw no reason for why that would change. The Count was slumped lazily on the soft cushions within his carriage, his want within hands reach.

His reasons for this trip was twofold: her royal highness was apparently engaging in high level diplomatic talks with lord of the huge frozen tundra that now scarred Tristain's landscape. It would be advantageous for him to be there and perhaps… influence such talks in a manner which would benefit him.

As the royal messenger to the Academy of Tristain he had some power within the region around the Academy. He was sure the Princess couldn't just discount his wise advice.

The second was because the Academy always had the prettiest servants. He was certain that any of the low born maids would feel honoured to serve him; even if it was in the bed. And even if they weren't… well he always did like it when they played rough.

A loud but distant roar echoed across the small valley he and his entourage was crossing. Birds flew from their branches in fright and the forest that was a moment ago full of the noise of nature turned silent.

Opening his window, he leaned out to spot the source of the noise. "What was tha…" he did not finish his sentence as a massive dragon dropped in front of his entourage. Its golden-copper scales glittered in the sun as it reared up on its two legs.

"My Lord! Dragon!" he heard the servant driving his carriage shout in alarm. The man tried to turn the horses around when the Dragon attacked. "YOL TOOR SHUL!" a breath of brilliant red and orange flames blasted his carriage, consuming his vanguard of men.

Scrambling to draw his wand, he created a shield of water as the flames overtook his carriage. While it kept him from burning to death; it was not enough to protect him completely from harm as he was forced out his burning wreck of a carriage.

He could hear the twang of arrows as his men retaliated. Said arrows seemed to have little effect on the beast, serving to only amuse the creature. I jumped into the air and flew some distance away.

Thinking they drove it off the Count's men lowered their guard. They were not prepared for when it dived back down and unleashed a torrent of flames as it flew over them. His men scrambled for cover and those too slow were melted to the bone in a dance of flames.

"By the Founder! What is this thing?" he heard someone scream as he scrambled away from what was left of his carriage. A pair of armoured hands pulled him back to his feet; as one of his surviving footmen helped him up.

Just as he was going to stand up, his footman was consumed in another breath of fire that singed his clothes. More screams followed as his followers burned and died. Fumbling around; he noticed that his wand was now missing.

Cursing he contemplated searching for it but as the dragon neared him; he decided to abandon it in favour of surviving the day. He started running towards the forest; seeking shelter within the trees, cursing how large the road was all the way.

Mott panicked as he tried to flee. In his rush, he panicked and tripped on one of the immolated corpse that was once his footmen. He didn't need to look at his foot to know he landed on it wrong; the pain was enough of an indicator.

Ahead of him, he saw one of his servants fleeing. "I command you to get back here and help me!" he yelled in desperation to the man. The coward stopped in his tracks for a moment and hesitated. "Do so now! Or I'll see your whole family punished for this!" he threatened.

That was enough to persuade the man as he turned back to pick up his liege lord. Slinging the Count over his shoulder, they trudged away from the site of devastation. "By the Founder! Hurry; it won't take long for-"

Whatever Mott was going to say was cut off by a large draconic shadow overhead. "YOL TOOR SHUL!" already Mott could feel the flames hurtling towards him.

With no other option, he let himself fall to the ground; ensuring his servant was on top of him. The man screamed as he took the full brunt of the flames. Once the shadow had passed Mott shrugged off the dying man.

"M…my Lord… help me." pleaded his servants; his face a mess of recently burnt skin. His hand grabbed the good leg of the Count as he begged for the noble to save him.

Mott sneered and shook the hand off him. "Let go of me you plebeian!" turning his back to the man, he hopped away; leaving the man to die. A agonized scream echoed across the valley behind him. The Count didn't need to turn his head to know the man was now dead.

He had to get away from the monstrosity… he had to- It was at this moment that large claws closed around his body. As the sharp talons sunk into his flesh, Mott screamed in agony as the dragon flew back up into the sky.

"Let go of me you dumb beast!" he screamed. His pain made him louder and he screamed out.

The Dragon craned its neck to look at its prey. Count Mott stared into its eyes. Even in his injured state he could see the intelligence in its eyes and could swear he saw what might have been a glint of amusement within the dark green orb.

"As you wish human." it rumbled out. The claws trapping him released him allowing him to free fall in the sky. "Have a nice fall." The dragon mocked.

Mott had no time to ponder how a dragon could speak. Hundreds of feet above the ground; he could only scream as he plummeted to the hard and solid earth awaiting him.

* * *

Felgoraagkriid continued its flight after he dropped the pathetic man. As one of the few remaining 'true' dragons left; it was difficult to find time to fly without being found by his former brethren.

Those that had accepted the traitor Paarthurnax's words and those that now served the Dragonborn. Both were his enemies and their reckoning would eventually come to them, preferably at his hands.

Yet he was neither stupid nor arrogant. He was well aware of that with him alone; he would stand no chance against Paarthurnax much less the slayer of Alduin. So he gathered his strength and sought out other dovah that would share his hatred for what his race had become.

He hadn't been very successful as of yet but was certain that his time would come.

The shifting of different planes had come to an unpleasant surprise to him. Felgoraagkriid suspected that it was the work of one of the twelve Daedric Princes of Oblivion; the most obvious being Sheogorath, the Mad God, or Sanguine, the Prince of Debuachery.

Both likely had the power to perform something of this level and would probably do this for fun or to just screw the entirety of Winterhold over. Both were well known for the trouble they would place onto mortals for amusements though, unlike most other Daedric Princes, they weren't exactly evil… just mad and annoying.

No matter; it was better for him like this anyway. With the rest of the traitor dragons now busy discussing this on top of Mount Anthor; he was left free to do as he liked. And this new land didn't seem to have all those annoying Nords that liked to use actual arrows against him.

A roar of challenge erupted from behind him. Craning his head to look back; he spotted another dovah tailing him; only a few hundred feet from where he was in the sky.

It appears that not all of the traitors were at Anthor after all. Turning himself in the air he faced his challenger; his wings flapping hard to turn his large body. He roared back to show he accepted the other dragon's challenge.

Getting a good look of the dovah; he saw it was only a blood dragon and therefore not much of a threat to a dovah like him. His jaw twisted into a cruel smile. This would be over quickly.

* * *

The talks were nearly complete and the Jarl and his party would return to Winterhold soon. However there was an issue that Henrietta still had: its name was the College of Winterhold.

Magic was the gift that the Founder Brimir had bestowed upon nobles to lead the common masses. With it; it wasn't hard to distinguish who was to lead and who was to follow.

And while Henrietta was loathe to admit it; she was aware that there were more than a few nobles that took their power for granted and made it habit to abuse their power over the commoners.

And even if being nobility doesn't make you above the law; it does allow for lighter sentences and the more powerful ones could get out through the help from their 'connections'.

It wasn't the most fair of situations but it was the one they lived in; where the stronger ruled over the weaker.

Though she wished to remove such stains on nobility from Tristain; she was also aware that such an undertaking was not possible without rebellion. Nobles would see it as stripping their ancient rights and would defect from the crown.

If such a rebellion occurred then she would be left with only a few loyal families as support; nowhere near enough to oppose the opposition.

But while Nobles were unlikely to lose their power; with the College of Winterhold it was possible for commoners to gain more power to balance it out.

So while many nobles would balk at what she was going to do; she would do so anyway for a prosperous future for Tristain.

Corruption was a constant issue within the administration of Tristain. As nobles could use magic to intimidate and enforce silence among the commoners; it was often impossible to sentence nobles for corruption due to a lack of evidence and witnesses.

However if commoners were more capable of standing against them; then nobles in turn would be less likely to swindle funds from the taxes they collected if they couldn't force their silence.

Of course she had to take this slow. It was likely that there wasn't too many Tristainians that would give up their trade to join the College, especially with the fees they charge for learning.

That and if too many commoners learned magic too fast; the Tristain may fall afoul the same revolution that Albion was suffering. Similarly nobles would crack down on her if they noticed a huge influx of common mages that now stood against them.

It had to be slowly done so that people had time to change. With enough time she hoped that nobles and commoners would be able to work together more closely for the benefit of Tristain.

Too often a better man could not rise up because someone else, with a more influential family background, would be given the position. Preferably she hoped to find a way in which to lift up those with the talent but not the means to rise up.

And so this was what she was discussing with the Elf that headed the College of Winterhold. Restrictions would have to put in place to limit the amount of Tristainian commoners learning magic to a manageable level. New laws would have to be set up for these mages.

As this was a private discussion, and to the best of her knowledge did not involve Winterhold as a whole; she had invited only the Archmage to the conversation. Outside Captain Wardes stood guard to ensure there was no one who could eavesdrop.

"You called for me your highness." The elf said as he took a seat opposite her.

"Yes I would like to discuss your College." she replied. Motabe stiffened and narrowed his eyes at her.

"And what about my College worries you?" he asked cautiously. He was worried about any further restrictions that she might place upon Winterhold and rightly so; as while the Princess seemed earnest, she was also quite pragmatic when she needed to be.

"It is about entry into your College for Tristainians." she answered; her face passive as she began to outline what she meant. "There is no need for grave concern as I don't want to limit the College in anyway. In fact I believe what your College can share with Tristain would greatly benefit us."

The Archmage relaxed slightly but remained careful in how he talked. "And what restrictions would you have me put in place then?" he asked; getting straight to the point.

Henrietta wasn't surprised that Motabe had guessed her intentions. He had so far proven himself a cunning and intelligent person. "Just to limit the number of Tristainian students and that they have to receive permission from the crown first." she answered.

"I will not show favouritism towards your nobility simply because they were born to a higher station. If they fail then I will kick them out like any others." declared the Archmage; misinterpreting what she intended.

"My apologies for leading you on incorrectly Archmage; but that was not my intent." she reassured, her hands waving to emphasize her point.

"Then why would we require your permission to admit Tristainian students. So far everything I've seen here suggests that your kingdom favours nobles far more than even Cyrodiil." he said loudly.

"It's merely for administration purposes and if commoners are to learn magic then there needs to be laws in place so they won't abuse their magic." she pressed.

"And what of your nobles? are there laws in place so they won't abuse their magic?" the Archmage demanded.

Henrietta's silence at the question was all the answer he needed. Scowling; he took deep breaths and calmed himself. "What exactly are these restrictions you want then?" he asked after a moment.

Seeing that he had cooled down Henrietta outlined her restrictions.

Taking down the names and details of Tristainian students was acceptable. The Archmage actually encouraged that as it allows for better management of the College's huge student body.

That a prospective student had to be approved by the Crown of Tristain before they could even apply was a stickler. The Archmage and the Princess argued over this for quite some time.

Eventually it was toned down so that the majority had to commoners. Henrietta didn't mind allowing there to be more common mages learning Winterhold's clever craft; she doubted that there were too many nobles willing to learn such magic anyway.

Both of them agreed that the applicants had to pay for their own fees; though she felt as if the elf was withholding something from her. It was probably nothing; but she had a strange feeling that indicated the Archmage knew something she didn't.

This time they had two written agreements that would serve to bind them to what was agreed. One written in Halkengenian runes and the other in whatever Tamriel used.

Overall it was over quite quickly; allowing them to just make it in time for lunch.

As the Archmage left the room; he chuckled slightly. The Princess was extremely perceptive despite her age but even so that was not enough.

While he had agreed to report all new students to the Tristain crown; he had managed to elude placing Siesta there. It was rather childish of him to use such a petty thing as a form of vengeance for her policy against the Elves; but it felt good nevertheless.

Siesta was already technically accepted as a student of the College of Winterhold; and the agreement he and the princess had only stated that he was to tell them of all **new** students.

This would probably not matter in the slightest; as it wouldn't take long for the Princess to find out about Siesta. But it allowed him to stroke his damaged racial pride somewhat; so it was rather worth it.

* * *

**A rather short chapter as I've given up on coming up with more diplomatic scenes. My head is starting to hurt trying to think of more. So I'm going to focus more on Winterhold now and Reconquesta. **

**By the way; does anyone know why Wardes turned traitor again? He had seemingly good life so I see no reason as to why he deserted to Reconquesta.**


	11. Chapter 11

**In retrospect I should've had Siesta beat the living crap out of Mott first **_**then**_** have him killed by a dragon. Too late now though.**

**The anime reason for Wardes betrayal seems a bit strange. He was going to marry into the Valliere family, probably the most powerful in Tristain excluding the royal family. And with Cattleya sick all the time and Eleonore… being Eleonore; then it's likely he's the best choice to inherit if he marries Louise. I mean seriously… what husband could Eleonore possibly get that would top the Captain of the Griffin Knights?**

**I never finished the light novels (only went just past Colbert's 'death') so I wasn't sure about why Wardes went traitor. As for starting a crusade against the Elves with Reconquesta to get into the Holy Land; well I think that was a doomed plan. He should be smart enough to realize that Reconquesta couldn't possibly conquer all of Halkengenia and build up enough forces to start a crusade in his lifetime. Their victory in Albion only worked because the Tudors (with the exception of Wales) were hated by the populace allowing Reconquesta to garner support. Likewise they could only hold Albion if they kept the people's focus on war instead of their internal situation; hence the invasion of Tristain. The problem with that is that Henrietta was actually a popular monarch so I doubt many Tristainians would want Reconquesta to usurp her thus making their occupation of Tristain difficult. Also even if Gallia funded Reconquesta; I doubt that Joseph would keep up his support if they choose to attack him. Likewise Germania's probably strong enough to defeat or hold off Reconquesta and Reconquesta can't reach Romalia unless it goes through Gallia or Germania. Eventually, since Reconquesta don't seem to be great administrators, there would be another rebellion due to their inept rule and this would eventually mark the end of Reconquesta. Besides Wardes needed help in researching his mother's journal and the only entity not influenced by the Church that could help him was Reconquesta but with Winterhold now here…**

**Sorry for the rant but I think I may have just spoiled what's going to happen to Wardes; if I didn't; then just ignore what I just said… or rather wrote.**

**You know you could clear entire dungeons with just a bloody dog. Granted that it's the pet of a Daedric Prince, but still… it's just a dog in the end, albeit a super powered one.**

**(Edit: Meant to use J'Zargo instead of Faralda but left a few mentions of her in. Fixed now.)**

**(Edit 2: Just added a few things, nothing really relevant to the plot though.)**

* * *

Gah-Ei seated himself on the chair within the dim room. Across the small table was Thonjolf taking a drink out of a cup.

"So Thonjolf… what do you want from me now?" the Argonian asked cautiously.

The pair was back in the Jarl's palace; inside one of the less used rooms. A Bosmer 'servant' locked the door, ensuring that no one would enter uninvited.

"Tell me Dragonborn… are you still loyal to the Empire?" Thonjolf asked casually despite the seriousness of the question.

Gah-Ei narrowed his eyes. He had led the attack on Windhelm alongside General Tullius and Legate Rikke back during the Stormcloak Rebellion as a Legate of the Imperial Legion. He had received a number of awards for his bravery, skill and his _loyalty_. The Nord Thane had to be aware of that so if he was asking this kind of question then…

"What do you want me to do?" the Argonian asked straight to the point.

Thonjolf chuckled without mirth. "Nothing much… just to deliver a simple message." He answered the Argonian; slipping over an envelope. "Inside are all the details, just in case you need them."

Breaking it open, Gah-Ei pulled out the note and read it. His eyelids widened as he read the contents. "I thought the treaty with Tristain didn't allow us to do this." he questioned the Nord.

Thonjolf chuckled again; though there was no amusement in it. "While the Jarl may trust these Tristainians; it doesn't hurt to have a provision… just in case. Of course no one but those involved have to know about this." he explained as he took another sip from his cup.

"Then why choose Albion? From what I've heard they're on the verge of collapse with those Reconquesta winning the civil war." The Argonian queried; confused on why Thonjolf would look for help from a near dead family.

"It's not the family that matters but their Prince Valliant. If the rumours are true then he and the Princess are… very close, more so than cousins should be. He can influence the Princess against any move that wouldn't be in Winterhold's best interests." The Thane said, the usual chuckle gone. "Besides I have sent others elsewhere; it's just that Albion will likely be beyond what the abilities of my other messengers."

Yes. They had to enter a warzone, get past an army looking for infiltrators, persuade the Tudors that they meant well, get them out and likely fight their way back out; definably not an easy task.

There was a foul taste in the Argonian's mouth. He hated this kind of thing. "And what if he tells the Princess of this arrangement? I doubt she would take it very well."

Thonjolf waved off his concern. "Prince Wales would hardly compromise that long record of honour by breaking it with us. And if worse comes to worse; then there are ways to ensure silence." He answered; his voice cold.

Before the Argonian could object; he quickly continued. "That is only in the worst case and I doubt it would come to that.

Gah-Ei's eyes glanced back down to the parchment. "And the Princess wouldn't wonder why I would save Prince Wales?" His head came back up to stare at the Thane.

"You are the Dragonborn. Half the things you've done still don't make sense to me." The Nord answered with a shrug of his shoulders. "Of course you will be paid handsomely for this venture." He assured as he procured a large leather sack.

Taking the sack Gah-Ei glanced inside. Beautiful cut jewels looked back at him; this was a fortune for any man. "Half now and the rest will come when the Prince is safely in Tristain." Thonjolf told him.

This time it was the Argonian who chuckled slightly. "A bag of riches for cutting my way through an army to rescue a Prince and then cutting my way back out." He laughed quietly as Thonjolf finished the rest of his cup.

"A fair deal isn't it?" Thonjolf asked as he smirked.

"Does the Jarl know of this?" The Dragonborn asked cautiously; his mirth gone now.

"He chooses not to involve himself heavily in what I do but the Jarl certainly knows what I am doing right now." Thonjolf answered as he poured himself another cup of wine from the pitcher.

Gah-Ei pocketed the jewels; he did not like using the love that others shared like this. But he would not refuse. He had done much worse before anyway.

The Argonian shook his head remorsefully as he remembered one of his greatest shames. No… he would not refuse.

* * *

It had been nearly a month since Siesta started at Winterhold and so far it had been an exhausting experience. While she had expected the constant studying and the occasional practical spell casting lessons; she had not expected how tiring it actually was.

It didn't help that since all the tomes were in a language she couldn't understand; she had to learn a new language from scratch. At least now she could read it for the most part but her writing was still terrible.

The other duties that students had to perform were much simpler. Apparently the College only had a few cooks and general servants. Therefore the majority of cleaning, washing and the like were left to the newest apprentices. According to Master J'Zargo it is intended to teach young mages to be humble.

The older mages were not except from helping. While they didn't do the menial tasks like their juniors; they still had to help. Most of this was focused on tending to the alchemical supplies and other more complex tasks.

And finally the senior mages were relegated the task of guarding the College. Often this involved patrolling the empty halls of the College or guarding the bridge that led to the College.

It was because of this workload that she came to be a friend of Louise Francoise Le Blanc de La Valliere. While Siesta had the benefit of working as a maid before the young noble had no idea on what she was doing. As such; Siesta took it upon herself to help the Valliere for the benefit of all the plates she might otherwise break.

The most surprising thing was how diverse the College was. She had already been told of how many different people there were at the College by Arlerus and the Archmage; but even then she didn't think there would be... so many different races.

By far the human like ones made up the majority. Nords, Bretons, Imperials and even some Redguards she recalled from her short introductory lesson on what the races were. They flitted around both inside and outside the Academy; their mage's robe making them easily distinguishable for the former.

Then there were the Elves. While the Archmage seemed like a nice person; that was no measure on how the other Elves might act. Some seemed to exemplify what she had always thought of them: proud, arrogant, and assured of their superiority over others; not too unlike the nobles in Tristain.

Yet there were some that were nice; being kind enough to lend a hand when she needed directions and such. Their pointed ears still made her shiver in fear but the Elven mages pretended to not notice and helped with a warm smile on their faces.

While she had seen a Argonian at the Academy; she had never seen a Khajiit before. When they said the Khajiit were literally walking and talking cats; they weren't kidding. So far the only she really interacted with was Master J'Zargo, who had a strange habit of referring to himself in third person; so she couldn't really even begin to guess what they were like.

But out of all them; it was the Orcs that terrified the poor former maid. While she had never seen a Halkengenian Elf before and thus couldn't compare them with Tamrielic Elves; she has seen Orcs before. Dumb, crude and barbaric creatures; there were well known for brutal raids on villages and complete disregard for life in general.

So when she passed by one of the rare Orc mages; her feet decided to freeze as she shivered in fear. The robed Orc gave only a snort of amusement before walking past her; ignoring her fear.

It was on the second day of when the two Tristainian's had really started their magical education. The first was mostly introductions with the more important masters and a tour of the College by Master J'Zargo; the Master Wizard of the College and the one in charge of new students.

If nothing else; they were impressed. The Tristain Academy of Magic was suited to accommodate only a few hundred noble students. The College of Winterhold was built to fit thousands.

The Arcanaeum was the first facility they were introduced to. Located above ground; it was open to the public and was where private research was held. In size; it surpassed the Tristain Academy of Magic's own library by a huge margin.

What was surprising was the head librarian. There was an elderly Orc wearing robes directed the library from behind his desk. If having an Orc managing the library wasn't enough; Siesta nearly fainted from shock when she learned that Urag gro-Shub was also one of the most powerful and oldest mage in the College.

Entering a flight of stairs that descended further into the College; the Tristainians became truly aware of how much bigger the College was compared to the Academy.

It really showed with the size of the Hall of Elements. While the eating hall couldn't even fit everyone in; the Hall of Elements most certainly could. The pride of the College; it was relocated to, what Master J'Zargo had called, the Midden.

Decorated with the symbolic banners of the College, it was filled with students that mingled together. At the very centre was a large well that emitted a bright blue glow that illuminated the whole room.

According to the Khajiit Master Wizard the hall was mostly where spell casting lessons were held. The walls were warded to prevent damage and there were always senior mages present to ensure there were no mishaps. All major announcements were held here and it was the central hub of the College.

But it was the Hall of Acquisition that was where the majority of the work was done. Despite its name it wasn't actually a hall and instead was a series of chambers designed to fit one teacher and a class of apprentices. Supplied with constant parchment and ink; it was where notes were made and instructions given as prospective mages studied the Clever Craft.

And their tour ended with the Halls of Attainment and Countenance. A long series of corridors filled with small bedrooms; this was where they were going to stay during their time at the College. Each section was assigned a different name and this was to be the decider of the household duties they were expected to do.

It was likely on purpose that they placed Siesta with Louise, the only Tristainian in the College.

It was at breakfast on the second day that Siesta truly interacted with the Valliere. Having been informed about how they were expected to clean up after themselves; Siesta had taken her dishes to where they were meant to be cleaned. Her section had unfortunately drawn the role of cleaning everyone's dishes.

While Siesta had no trouble in doing this; Louise struggled. Unused to the work commonly left to servants she broke far more than she cleaned. Her face was red with embarrassment as people turned to her every time a dish hit the ground. Yet her pride kept her working; even if she did a poor job.

Louise had taken what Master J'Zargo said very seriously. If cleaning and washing was what apprentices had to do to become great mages; then she was more than willing to accept a few years of embarrassment for a lifetime of accomplishments.

It was after the eleventh dish hit the ground; the Siesta decided to help her. She didn't know the rest of the apprentices she worked with yet but she could understand the looks they sent in her direction. Obviously as the other only other Tristainian; they wanted her to stop Louise from breaking all the dishes and getting them in trouble.

"Um… Lad-…Miss Valliere; do you need help?" she asked nervously; correcting herself half way. She wasn't meant to refer to her title in the College since they weren't meant to use titles here. The Archmage was very clear on that; though old habits were hard to get rid of.

Louise flushed with embarrassment. "N... No! I can do this myself." She stubbornly insisted; as she picked up another dirty plate from the still large pile stacked beside her.

In her rush; she failed to get a proper grip and the plate slipped out of her hand and fell down towards the cold stone floor.

Siesta reacted quickly. Expected Louise to make a mistake; she caught the plate just before it could break into pieces on the floor. Holding the plate in front of Louise; she raised a questioning eyebrow.

Louise fidgeted under Siesta's watch. "Maybe I do need a little help." she admitted bashfully.

Between the two of them they got the work done faster; with the former maid cleaning the dishes while Louise gripped the cleaned dishes and stacked them aside.

This reoccurred whenever later when they were assigned to serve the food in the afternoon before serving themselves.

While they didn't need to cook the food; they did need to serve it out to the school in even proportions. Luckily there were serving tables across the eating hall and generally not everyone chose to eat at midday; meaning that there wasn't thousands of students lining up to eat.

All Louise had to do was scoop even proportions of what smelled like tomato soup into the bowls of whoever wanted it. The table was dripping off orange soup before they even served half of the people gathered.

While by no means clumsy; Louise could never manage to get share out the soup evenly. Whenever she poured too little; she tried to rush in another scoop before the hungry person left, often spilling most of in her hurry. As for when she poured too much… well there was a not too happy cat who scolded her.

Seeing that they were taking too long; Siesta chose to switch stations with the small pinkette. Fortunately the Valliere was far more capable at handing out loafs of bread than she was at soup. And thus started a beautiful yet strange friendship.

* * *

"Um… Louise do you know what this means?" whispered Siesta as she nudged her neighbour. Louise looked up from her own work and glanced at Siesta's sheet.

"I think it means Aetherius." Louise whispered back, though even she could detect the lack of confidence behind the answer.

So far their work at the College mostly involved learning the language that all the tomes were written in. While they were also taught some of the _very_ basic spells; they had to master reading and writing their language before they could even start learning more complex spells; geniuses or not.

As such the two were placed together into a special class where they were taught by a senior Nordic Mage called Onmound. He was apparently one of the few mages the Archmage had trusted with Louise's 'secret' having been one of his oldest friends. And since he was the one with the less work; he was sent to teach the three Tristainians their language.

Of course this included Professor Colbert; who actually pleaded to learn; the reason being that he wanted to read the thousands of books in their library. Seeing no problem with it; Master Onmound included him into their lessons.

It was a testament to his great academic ability when he managed to learn enough to read a basic book within just seven days. And within the month they had been here; he was already finished learning the language and spending his time at the library. It was almost scary how smart Professor Colbert could be when he wanted to be.

Meanwhile Louise and Siesta had progressed nicely. While they still had difficulty on more complex words; they could at least now read the various books the College had to offer.

"That is correct Apprentice Valliere." Said Onmound from her chair; happening to eavesdrop on their hushed exchange. "But I would appreciate it if you kept quiet. This is a test and it is supposed to be done in silence." reprimanded the mage, though from his tone it was clear he wasn't that strict.

Master Onmound wasn't a bad person; in fact he was a bit too lenient in his teaching. Letting them get away with speaking during a test was an example of this.

But when it came to actually teaching; then he was very thorough and was clearly eager to have the two of them finish their literacy and start on actual spellwork.

The rest of the test was completed in silence. It wasn't too much anyhow; just a simple fill-in-the-gap type of test.

Onmound silently read through their work as the two girls waited. Nodding his approval he handed the sheets back to them. "Apprentice Siesta you need to work slightly more on memorising the spelling, there were some minor mistakes here and there. As for you Apprentice Valliere; you handle of words is impeccable but the handwriting leaves a bit to be desired for. I suggest you practice handling the quill for the words more."

Dipping their heads slightly; they gave him the traditional acknowledgement one was meant to give to someone of higher position within the College. "Yes Master Onmound." They said as they started to pack away their equipment.

"Ah yes." said Onmound as he remembered something. Louise and Siesta stopped at the door and turned back to face their teacher. "The two of you need to go see the Archmage. He's waiting for you in his quarters." He told them.

Louise took in a deep breath as she hid her surprise. The Archmage wanted to see them? Why? She had met the Elf once again to receive her apprentice robes and he didn't seem like a bad person; reminding her more of a caring grandparent than a figure of authority.

"Um… Master Onmound, do you know why he wants to see us?" asked Siesta as she edged slightly back into the room.

"I do; but it's better if I leave the Archmage to explain why." answered their teacher. Seeing their worried expressions he quickly moved to reassure them. "Don't worry neither of you are in trouble, Motabe just wants to talk about something."

Leaving the room, the two made their way back up to the surface. More than a few apprentices waved to them in greeting as they walked past them. They had built up a small reputation as "the One-that-fumbles and the Helper" and it wasn't hard to guess who was which. Louise was sure that it was that cheeky cat that gave such a stupid name.

"So what do you think he wants to talk to us about?" asked Louise nervously as they made their way up the tiring stair well that led to the Archmage's quarters.

"Probably about all those dishes you broke." answered Siesta nonchalantly.

Louise flushed in embarrassment. She didn't like being reminded of all the stupid mistakes she made. It wasn't her fault really… she was never taught how to clean dishes and they shouldn't have just assumed she knew… Even in her thoughts; Louise couldn't find her words to be sincere.

"Shut up! That was weeks ago and I already got in trouble for it." She replied with only slight traces of anger in her voice.

She had learned long ago that Siesta had an annoying habit to tease people, not too unlike another annoying person she knew. Though while Kirche was always using her body as the butt of her jokes; Siesta focused more on her clumsiness when it came to what she considers 'simple' tasks.

And with all that experience with teasing; she knew getting angry was exactly what they wanted. But sometimes it was just hard to stay calm.

"I heard those plates were expensive you know? About five Ecu each." continued Siesta in the same unconcerned voice.

Oh now she was just flat out lying. There was no way those things could be worth that much… could they?

She would never know as before she could retort they reached the doorway that lead into the Archmage's quarters. The door was opened invitingly as usual.

The Archmage had made it clear that if anyone needed aid then they could always come and see him; as his door will always be open. Did anyone actually want to bother their Archmage with their problems? Not really.

Louise knocked on the opened door. "You called for us sir?" she said into the room.

"Yes, please come in." answered the Archmage from within. Stepping into the room they found the Archmage seated beside a small round table with two empty chairs beside it.

Gesturing towards the free seats he motioned for them to sit. Seating themselves, the two girls waited patiently for him to explain what they were doing here.

"Well… it has come to light today that you two are special cases in Halkengenia." said the Archmage. "All the other Tristainian students, chosen by the crown, don't seem to be able to cast magic."

Louise widened her eyes in surprise. They couldn't cast magic?

"And this is why I believe you two are special cases. If all those nobles, merchants and commoners couldn't cast our brand of magic; then why are you two able to?" he continued.

Siesta and Louise were still too surprised to answer; allowing Motabe to continue. "Miss Valliere, your magic is strange even in your world so it's not too far of a stretch to say your unique amoung Tristainians."

The Bosmer turned to face the only other Tristainian in the room. "But Miss Siesta, as far as I know; you're just like the majority of the other Tristainians I tested for magic. Is there anything you know which may distinguish you from the others?" he asked in interest.

Siesta delved into her memories as she tried to come up with an answer. Try as she might; she couldn't think of anything of significance.

She was born and raised in Tarbes like the rest of her family. But Tarbes wasn't special in anyway; it was just another small village trying to make do. The town had been around for a long time now and there wasn't really anything special, in a magical sense that happened there.

The only thing that could even mean anything was her great-grandfather was a foreigner from the Far East, past the Holy Land. But that wasn't anything even unique. Marrying foreigners wasn't all that special was it?

* * *

**Does anyone remember what the Asia equivalent in Hakengenia was? I think it was Kulab Ai Rubi or something but I don't remember and I can't find it on the Wiki. **

**I personally don't think Tabitha and Kirche need any new spells to add to their arsenal. Their pretty powerful even without Tamrielic magic, and in some cases their spells would be stronger anyway. I mean Kirche is triangle class and Tabitha eventually becomes square class; they're not even adults yet and their stronger than most people already. Instead they'll get other magical goodies.**

**I also can't believe that there are no drinks in Skyrim that are not alcoholic or drugs. Everything is either mead,beer,wine or some type of Skooma. Don't they have anything else?**

** Though since Siesta's family can cast magic that does open new possibilities for her cousin.**


	12. Chapter 12

**So the Pope is the mastermind of everything huh? Should have known; it's always a young man with women's hair in positions of power that are the bad guys nowadays.**

**Thanks to Mr I hate znt nobles for this mad OC. I have no idea whether what I just wrote counts as cannibalism or not.**

**I'm also planning to involve Jessica though I still don't believe the Scarron is her father because I'm fairly certain he's gay. Seriously; just how he looks and talks says a lot about his preferences.**

**Any else think companions are nothing really nothing more but portable extra storage space?**

* * *

Lestor stalked through the busy streets; hugging his deformed staff for dear life; His dirty grey cloak covering his form.

The whispers from the faces engraved at the tip of the stave entered his head. His great lord was urging him to do what he was always destined to do. Soon the world will know his power.

"Yes…Yes… soon…soon…" he whispered back lovingly. Soon he will be the most evil overlord of the land! All of Halkengenia will crumble beneath his feet. And when he was at full power he would make nature itself bend to his will; nothing would be impossible.

And it was all thanks to his god; the one that took him away from his goal of revenge and showed him the wrongs of the world. It was he that showed him his path to greatness. The world was too ordered and needed more creativity to bring it forward.

As the defenders of order; the nobles of Halkengenia must fall. Then everyone will cheer and there would be cheese for everyone! He'll make cabbages fall from the sky and no one will starve so they'll all worship him. He'll turn all the bad people to rabbits and he'll have something to kick around.

He sniffed the air in concentration and smiled madly. The noble he wanted was here.

People shied away from his dirty form; but he paid no heed to them. It was not their fault that they were ignorant to the faults of the world; that they were taught to live a peaceful and orderly life. When his reign begins then he will teach them how to live more freely.

Back before he was unenlightened; he wanted revenge against this certain noble. His young family had starved because of him; his beautiful wife and loving daughter. He didn't have enough to pay his cursed high taxes and kept it back to feed them. But the noble wouldn't hear of it and set his brutes to force it out of him. And now they were dead! Dead; just like how the noble will soon be.

But he won't do it for revenge now… no… he would only be the first step on purging the nobles. And when they were all gone; then he'll take over and the reign of Overlord Lestor will begin.

His eyes widened in delight as he spotted his target; the damned tax collector for his province; the Count Chesnaye. The fat man was walking around like he owned the whole city; the halberds of his two guards threatening anyone who came too close.

The whispers were overwhelming now; they urged him to do it. And so he obliged. Pushing aside the people in front of him; he drew closer to his first target.

He stumbled in front of Chesnaye; barring his way. Upon spotting the dirty man; the Count sneered in revulsion. "Move aside now you commoner." The Count demanded as he waved for the man to step aside.

Yet the shady man refused to move and was holding his strange staff threateningly at him. "All bow before Overlord Lestor!" he yelled out madly.

Dark crimson energy swelled at the tip of his staff. Upon seeing this; the Count's two guards stepped in front of their charge and attacked the 'Overlord" One stepped forward to impale the man while the other stood protectively in front of the Count.

A crowd was gathering now; as they watched the spectacle. It was mostly men; as the women had hurried their children away from the scene, accurately predicting something dangerous was going to occur.

Lestor smiled as he released the energy from his staff just like his god had told him. He watched in satisfaction as it impacted the first guard and exploded into a mist of red smoke.

Onlookers gasped in fear as the abnormal smoke cleared. Where a fully armoured guard once stood was now only a pile of sparkling ashes; that was being blown away by the wind.

Not letting the other guard to get over his surprise; Lestor fired another bolt of red energy at the guard.

Trained to react to danger; the guard narrowly dodged the quick bolt of power only for it to hit his master instead. The noble didn't even have time to let out a scream as his body glowed with magic.

Once again thick red smoke covered the spot where the Count stood. The last guard, seeing that his partner was dead and the Count probably following suit, decided to take this moment to run.

Gripping his halberd with one hand; he sprinted away from the robed man; using his free hand to push aside anyone in his way.

In response Lestor fired off yet another red bolt at the guard. The red ball of deadly magic was quickly gaining on the guard who, seeing it when he glanced back, ducked to avoid it. His luck prevailed again; as the ball sailed over his head to hit a women walking to see the commotion.

There was no explosion of magical smoke this time as the women dropped lifelessly to the ground. People screamed in fright and dispersed. Shouts could be heard as the local town guard started marched towards the scene of the crime.

Turning his attention back to the Count or rather the sweetroll he turned into. As he knelt down to pick up the delicacy; he smiled again. "How do you like the _taste_ of that?" He laughed hysterically at his poor joke as he stuffed his mouth with the sweetroll.

Unfortunately the watchmen who had now surrounded him did not share his humour. Their captain stood up front as he faced the madman. "Who are you and what have you done here?" challenged the captain.

Lestor placed his free hand onto his face as he slowly chuckled to himself. This chuckle developed into a soft laughter before blowing into a mad laugh as he lifted his head towards the sky.

The madman's laugh made the watchmen uneasy. They gripped their weapons nervously as they glanced to their captain for instructions. Their captain was just as disturbed by the sight as his subordinates; sweat dripped from his head as he watched the man.

Lestor quietened down as he levelled his staff at the captain. Immediately swords were raised right back at him; as the watch readied themselves to strike. The captain raised an empty hand into the air to halt his men.

No matter how much he wanted to cut the obviously madman down; they were meant to maintain order and he was sure that the Crown would like to know what kind of magic the man just did. Besides the regulations that the watch followed clearly sta-

"Who am I you ask? I am Lestor! Evil Overlord of the world!" he proclaimed as he red energy glowed again on the tip of his staff.

The captain dropped his hand as he quickly sidestepped to dodge the blast of energy. Seeing the attack; his men charged at the man; making sure there was space between them to dodge his magic.

_Screw the rules_ thought the captain, as he levelled his sword. He wasn't going to let himself get killed over rules that obviously wouldn't work here. Letting loose a cry; he rushed at the madman; sword held back to skewer him.

Despite the overwhelming odds; Lestor unleashed a final laugh. "Foolish fools! None can stand before the Great Overlord Lestor!"

* * *

Two well-built men trekked up the slippery slope of the mountain. Dressed in heavy winter coats; they each had a long stick to maintain their footing on the treacherous ground. Both had a small sack over their shoulder; filled with their rations and water.

A short sword hanged limply off the leading man's belt; his hand gripping every now and then. The following man was unarmed in comparison and was obviously nervous about his lack of means to defend himself.

"Are you sure it's safe?" asked Karlos; his eyes darting around the rugged hill as they climbed the numerous steps that led to the ruin. He had heard of the dangers that prowled the mountain: bloodthirsty trolls; starving wolves and even wraiths of some kind.

"It's just a crypt full of bones and dust; what could possibly hurt us?" answered Gustav beside him. "Look; from what I've heard there's plenty of loot at all these ruins that these Winterhold types brought. Besides…" Gustav patted his short blade sheathed to his belt. "I'm sure we can handle any animals between us."

Karlos didn't share the same optimism his friend had. "And if there's nothing?" he queried.

Gustav sighed. Sometimes his friend was just too cynical for his tastes. "Then we get a good walk and view of the world. Now stop talking and more walking." He answered as he vaguely noted a vein of ore near the path.

It took only an hour to make their way up to where Gustav supposedly saw the ruin. Despite Gustav's words of how big it was; Karlos was disappointed. It was a large arch made of ancient rocks. Elaborate statues now ruined by the passage of time stood at both ends of the structure. The steps outside were half covered by snow and deadly sharp stalactites formed at the opening.

There were two entrances where doors may have once been. Kustav shivered from the cold air blowing around them. Having anticipated that they would climb to high altitudes; the two Tristainians had brought heavier clothes but they did little to dampen the cold.

Karlos's first impression of it was how much it resembled a helmet. A big stone helmet…

The two men took a break in front of the ruin; exhausted from their long walk. They took long, deep breathes as they recuperated. Finding a seat on a upturned obelisk; Gustav pulled out his flask and drank deeply.

"So that's the ruin…" said Karlos as he took in the details of the ruin. "Is that it?" he asked, once he finished his observation.

"What do you mean?" asked his friend, confused by his question.

Karlos pointed at the ruin. "It looks like it only has a single room. Didn't you say it was a huge necropolis filled with corpses and treasure?" he elaborated.

The ruin was indeed only single roomed, with the back wall clearly visible just beside the mountain face. Meaning it didn't lead into a huge cave system into the mountain like Gustav first thought.

"Well you don't know until you look." Insisted Gustav as he took the first step into the building.

It was a small and cramped space that was dimly lit by the sun through the openings in the wall. Two large black coffins stood upright on either side of the room; their presence a grim reminder of what type of place they were trespassing in. On the table was three bars of steel; the metal reflecting slightly from the sun. On the ground was an assortment of rusted weaponry.

But it was the rusted Iron Gate that drew their attention; or rather what was behind it. A large ornate chest rested safely behind its protection. Carefully stepping over the still sharp ancient weapons; the pair made their way to stand in front of the corroded gate.

"See what did I tell you?" exclaimed Gustav as he put a hand on the gate. "I knew there was treasure here."

The man pulled on the corroded iron only to find it wouldn't budge. Pulling it again did nothing but flake off some of the ancient iron. "Why… won't… you… open?!" he shouted in irritation as he tried to pry the gate open.

"I think it's loc-"started Karlos before the sound of moving stone stopped him.

Dust spread around the openings of the coffins. Karlos and Gustav were frozen to the spot as the lid to the coffins slowly slid open. The lid to the stone coffins landed hard on the ground; creating a loud crash which echoed in the small room.

Karlos had expected to a rotting corpse or a skeleton inside the coffin. He was not disappointed with the appearance of a skeleton that appeared to be praying. He was surprised when its eyes flickered with blue light.

It took one step out of its resting place and wobbled slightly as it testing its balance. Then it took the second and firmly stood on the ground. The undead skeleton then screeched at him. Picking a sword off the ground in one smooth movement; it swung at him.

The speed of the attack caught him off guard as he fell backwards to avoid the steel blade. His drop brought Gustav back from wherever he went as his friend drew his own blade.

Another inhuman screech drew his attention to where the other coffin was. Already dreading what he was going to see; he still jolted when he saw another skeleton readying itself to attack, a dark steel battle-axe in its surprisingly strong skeletal hands.

Offhandedly he wondered how they could make noise when they were only bone. The skeleton with the battle-axe leaped into the air; weapon swung behind its head as it attacked.

Karlos reacted sluggishly; never much of a fighter he barely rolled out of the way as the blade of the axe buried itself into the ground he formerly occupied. The stone splintered as the axe stuck itself into the ground.

Reaching a hand out at his friend; he was rewarded as Gustav pulled him up with his free hand. "Run! I'll buy you some time." commanded the man; as he eyed the other skeleton that was shambling towards them.

With a great push; Karlos was sent stumbling out of the ruin. Clearly his friend had forgotten about the many stairs that lead to ruin as he was sent tumbling down them; grunting with pain as he connected with the stone steps.

Meanwhile Gustav was engaging in a duel with the skeleton with the sword; him being the one losing the fight. Ducking underneath a overhead swing; he closed in to stab the creature in the chest.

His blade pierced through their ribcage of the skeleton but it did little to actually harm it. Taking advantage of the Tristainian's close proximity; the skeleton slashed at Gustav.

Backing away; he used both hands to parry the blow. The ringing of metal could be heard as the two blades connected. Gustav gritted his teeth as he struggled against the surprising strength of the skeleton.

Drawing the blade away; the skeleton then surprised him by punching him with its fist. The sharp edges of its knuckles drew blood as they impacted with his unguarded stomach. Four red puncture holes could be seen on his fur coat; the material soaking up his blood.

Gustav bit his lip to suppress his cry of pain; his spare hand gripped the wound as he applied pressure to it. His sword hand wavered slightly as the pain went through his body.

Taking advantage of this lapse in concentration; the undead intensified its attacks. Drawing its sword back; it thrust out the ancient Nord blade towards his opponent.

The Tristainian didn't even bother to block this time as he painfully sidestepped the stab. As he did so he tripped on an uneven rock and lost his balance. As he struggled to regain his balance; he felt something impact with his back. He saw the battle-axe of the other skeleton coming out of his stomach just before his vision was filled with red.

His upper torso fell to the floor as the rest of his body collapsed. His blade made a loud clattering noise as it fell from his still warm hands. A pool of blood spread from his body parts split.

The pair of skeletons didn't bother chasing the one that escaped. Even with the barest of life within them; they knew their duties. Whether in life or death; they would protect the tombs of their masters from any that would dare desecrate them.

Picking up the remains; they took them outside and tossed the bloody meat outside. It would not take too long for some stray carnivore to consume it.

The blood was more difficult to clean. With their weapons; they slowly but steadily covered it in snow. With their duties complete they stepped back into their tombs. Blue magic flickered as the lids rose off the ground and firmly shut the undead guardians back inside their coffins.

Once again trapped within darkness; what little lifeforce that sustained them left their shambling bodies; the blue orbs within their eyes fading back out of existence.

* * *

**I'm sorry for the lack of any development whatsoever it this chapter. I am currently suffering writer's block and can't really decide on how to progress. While I do want to get to the Albion-Tristain war; I feel as if I can't do so until I put some story behind it. The problem is what. So any ideas would be appreciated. I can't promise I would use them all but I will take them all into account.**

**That being said can anyone guess who the 'God' of Lestor is. It's actually fairly obvious or at least I hope it is. As for why that 'God' would interfere in Halkengenia? well it seems like something he would do for a morning laugh.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Several people gave out very interesting ideas and I thank you all for the help. Some of them actually overlapped some of mine; so I'll incorporate them into my own.**

**Sorry if everyone already knows this but I'm going to put up a lecture of Oblivion. I'm undecided as to the Mad God is who Colbert is looking for.**

**The stealth system in Skyrim is lackluster. I can shoot someone with an arrow and a few moments later "I guess it was just my imagination." ****This video on Youtube is pretty much the same as the actual game (watch?v=lHbF9ynGZV0) And we all know where the second arrow hit.**

* * *

"Get your hands off me!" raged the well-dressed prisoner. "Do you have any idea who I am? I'll see you hanged for this!"

The two white cloaked guards ignored his threats. They knew their duty and they were given explicit orders by the Jarl himself to bring the man to him. Their rough hands had a tight grip on the man's shoulder as they pushed him through the door.

"Here he is; Jarl Kraldar." The Jarl gave a nod of acknowledgement as they brought the man to his knees in front of him.

"Are you the Lord of Winterhold? I demand an explanation for this treatment." shouted the man.

Kraldar picked up a parchment from the small table beside him. "Intimidation, assault, murder and resisting arrest." The Jarl gave a low whistle. "Quite the list of crimes you got yourself there boy."

"Who are you calling boy? I'm the Viscount of-"began the man. The guard to the left of him cuffed him over the face.

"How dare you commoner! For you to strike a nob-"The guard struck him again, a lot harder this time. This time it drew blood as the guard's armoured fist connected with the noble's face.

Undaunted; the Viscount spat out the blood welling in his mouth; his eyes came to rest on the Jarl of Winterhold. "Aren't you going to stop this?!" he demanded.

The Jarl returned his stare; his gaze cold as he looked down at the prisoner. "This time use your blade. Don't kill him though." he commanded of the guard.

The Viscount could only watch in horror as the man drew a long steel blade out of his sheath. The free guard placed his other hand onto him; holding him in place. "By the Founder; what are you doin-"

The sound of the flat side of the blade hitting the Viscount's face was audible. The sound of the noble's jaw breaking as the cold steel caught him on the cheek.

The Jarl's face was dark as his guards forced the man back onto his knees. His face was a mess as blood dripped of it; though, thankfully, the man stopped taking.

"Now listen, _boy_, I will not have you go murdering my people just because they were an Elf. I don't know how you deal with crimes in Tristain; but I know how we deal with them here."

"Blut shwe was an elfwe!" gargled out the man. The guard didn't hesitate to put his foot to the Viscount's chin.

"And your Princess has given me permission to deal with all trouble as I see fit. So your pretty title cannot save you here." said the Jarl with distaste.

Waving with his hand; he summoned another pair of guards. "Take this fool to the marketplace. Execute him there so that all those Tristainians can see."

Picking up the list of the man's crimes; he handed the parchment to the nearest guard. "This is his crimes; I want you to read them out before you kill him."

"Ywou cwan't dwo thwis! I'mwa thwe Vwiscwount of-" protested the man in ineligible speech.

As the guard made to hit him again; the Jarl stopped him first. Slowly getting off his throne; he walked precariously to the kneeling man.

He crouched down in front of the Viscount and grabbed his head with both hands. "Listen, _boy_, I couldn't care less who you are. You can be the King of Skyrim. No the Emperor himself for all I care. But when you kill one of my people…"

Without finishing his sentence; he drew his head back and brutally head-butted the Viscount. Kraldar could hear the man's nose breaking from the force of the blow.

Getting back up; the Jarl wiped the blood off his head. With one last disdainful look; he spat on the broken Viscount. "Don't make it too quick." he ordered offhandedly.

With that he returned to sit on his throne; not even bothering to look at the condemned man.

Once he was seated back on his throne; the Jarl turned to his steward who was ironically an Elf. Though the steward tried; he couldn't get rid of the remnants of a cold smile. "Who was the man again? The Viscount of what?" he asked the steward.

"Of Hemstra." finished the steward.

"The Viscount of Hemstra then. Draft a letter to Tristain; tell them they have to get better control of their nobles and that they just lost another one of their nobles. This is already the fourth one I had to kill this month." ordered the Jarl.

"I shall see to it at once." answered the Steward; as he left his spot by the Jarl's side.

* * *

The only two Tristainian students were back in their usual classroom. Professor Colbert was also present as the Archmage had instructed their teacher to tell them important news.

This was after their discussion on Siesta's magic which ended with him dismissing them after the former maid told him about her grandfather. While he didn't specify what her grandfather had to do with magic; she was certain he knew, or at least had a good idea of it.

He told her that she could research what was special about him by herself as a project; with only a few hints to steer her in the right direction. Those being something about it being common on the Hammerfell-High Rock-Skyrim border and that her grandfather practiced a powerful form of magic that could match the Elder Scrolls; whatever they were.

"First off: Almost all forms of magic are practiced here as long as they don't endanger anyone else" said Onmound.

"And that includes Necromancy." He finished; his face prepared for what was going to come.

"WHAT?" exclaimed Louise in surprise, getting up from her chair in surprise. "But that's…"

Her Nord teacher folded his arms. "Yes I know. It goes against the doctrines of your Church. It's frown upon by most here too; but it is allowed." interrupted her teacher.

"So we have to learn…" started Siesta, whose response was more tamed.

Onmound waved his hand in negative. "No; you don't have to learn necromancy. But try to understand that since it does come under Conjuration; you will come into contact with necromancers." reassured the Master Mage.

"But how can your people be willing to raise the dead?" asked Colbert, face showing both concern and interest at the prospect of being back the deceased.

Onmound gave a casual shrug. "I'm no necromancer myself so I can't give an in-depth insight as to why they chose to practice the necromantic arts."

"But you can't deny that it is useful. An undead servant wouldn't need anything a living one would require and I suppose there are some that wants to see their dead loved ones again." he explained.

"But still…" started Louise "That isn't an excuse to drag back dead people to life". Bringing back the dead was an insult to everything alive. Undead was a perversion of life and just _wrong_.

"There's no need to tell me your arguments as to why it is wrong. I personally don't like it myself but I feel that it is important to tell you since you Tristainians seem more squeamish about the darker sides of magic." interrupted Onmound.

"But why would you tell us this now instead of earlier?" inquired Siesta.

"Because I'm going to show you the Atronach forge. It's usually used to bind Daedra to Mundus but occasionally there will be someone creating an undead servitor. I rather you be prepared for whatever happen there. " answered their master.

While Louise and Siesta was not familiar with the term; it was clear that Colbert was. His face was filled with what seemed like childish excitement as he thought of the prospect of watching mages bind otherworldly spirits to this world.

"An Atronach is a powerful form of Daedra. What makes this one special, however, is that they are made of a single pure substance and that, unlike other Daedra, hold no allegiance towards any of the Princes of Oblivion." explained Onmound for the benefit for the two ignorant girls.

Louise then raised her hand up into the air in question. "What's a Daedra?"

Onmound was confounded before slapping himself in the head. This wasn't a good reflection of his teaching skills if he forgot to even teach them about Daedra when he planned to go the Forge.

"Well… Daedra are supernatural beings that inhabit the planes of Oblivion. Oblivion itself is just collective term for the number of known different planes outside of our own. In general; they can't enter our own plane unless someone summons them. He started.

"Essentially anything not from our world is Daedric and different planes are of Oblivion. This world of yours: Halkengenia, would be considered a plane of Oblivion simply because it's obviously not our world and you and Apprentice Siesta; Daedra." He continued as the Tristainian 'Daedra' seemed put off by being compared to a supernatural being.

"There are probably thousands of planes that we are not aware of but we are aware of only sixteen… seventeen now counting Halkengenia. I'm not certain about Halkengenia but all the other planes are ruled by a Daedric Prince. Now before you can ask; the princes are the most powerful of the Daedra. Enough so that you can compare them to gods in power."

Onmound stopped there and took a quick sip of mead before he continued. While he was aware of the new popular 'tea' among the older mages; he still preferred his mead. Tea tasted good and all but it just couldn't give him that warm feeling in his stomach when he drank mead. "Now; there's one defining feature of the Daedra. And that is their immortality."

Again Louise jotted her hand up. "How are Daedra immortal? Are they all spirits?" she asked.

Onmound shook his head. "They are not spirits though it is similar. Essentially it is the soul or animus of a Daedra that is immortal. As long as their soul is still alive; then they can regenerate their form back in Oblivion. It's theorized that if you kill a Daedra's soul in Oblivion then they would die but since not many would willingly travel into the planes of Oblivion; it has never been confirmed."

"Is Oblivion dangerous?" asked Siesta; before she remembered she was meant to place her hand up first. "Ah… I'm sorry." she said; flushed.

"It's no problem; just remember next time. As for your question: yes. Few ever travel to the planes of Oblivion and even less return to tell the tales. The largest number of people entering the planes would be during the Oblivion Crisis; where large groups of soldiers travelled in to close the gates."

"And what about the Hero of Kvatch?" asked Colbert, his presence forgotten until now.

Onmound scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. "I'm sad to say I don't know too much about the details of the Crisis. I know that the Hero was probably the one who ventured into the gates the most and that he helped Martin Septim defeat Mehrunes Dagon but that is all I can remember."

"Do you know where I can find more information about it? I've exhausted the library but I can't seem to find where the Hero disappear to." pressed Colbert.

"You finished all them? Uh… have you tried asking Urag gro-Shub?" suggested a surprised Nord. Granted that there wasn't that many books dedicated to the Hero for some reason; but there were hundreds of them on the Crisis itself.

"Yes I've already tried that." replied Colbert.

"I'm afraid I don't know then. Sorry about that." apologised the Nord. Colbert nodded in understanding. It wasn't his fault anyhow.

"Did you uh… actually finish them all? All few hundred of them?" questioned Onmound, before he started on his lecture again.

"No. No. The majority of them share the same information so I only actually finished the first ten or so. I mean that I've searched all the books here but none of them provide a reason for the disappearance of the Hero of Kvatch." explained Colbert, as if it was normal to finish ten large text books within a single working week.

"Ah right. That makes more sense." Onmound sighed. He was sure that the Tristainian Professor was a genius, if a bit absent minded. But to have read hundreds of textbooks in just a week after he just finished learning the language…

"Where was I? Ah that's right. The planes of Oblivion are, in general, a very dangerous place for us mortals. Even if some of the Deadra are friendly or, in the case of the Daedra Prince Azura, benevolent; it does not mean that their planes are safe. Following on from Azura as an example; her plane is Moonshadow. According to the old records; it is a place of unimaginable beauty and made up of impossible shades of colour and perpetual twilight. While this may sound non-threatening; it doesn't change the danger as nearly all who left the plane came out either half blind or mad." warned Onmound.

"So all Daedra are bad?" asked Siesta; this time making sure she raised her hand first.

"Not exactly; despite common belief not all of them are what we would call 'evil'. Remember that they are all within a different plane to us. Think of how Halkengenia's stance on Elves differs to ours; since we are of different planes we will have different views on how we see the world. So we cannot assume that the Daedra share the same morality as us."

Flicking his hand; a ball of fire appeared. "Now say that I hit Apprentice Valliere with this and severely burn her. We can all see that what I am doing is wrong am I right?"

Seeing that his students were following along with him so far he continued. "Now a Daedra won't see it that way. Say that I was a Dremora; this type of Daedra has a particular dislike of us mortals and if hit Apprentice Valliere unprovoked like this; they would consider it a good deed as I got rid of, what they consider, trash." By now they had lost him.

"How are they not all evil then?" asked Louise; dutifully raising her hand as always.

"Well that probably wasn't the best example to say they're not all 'evil'. But take the other Daedric Prince I mentioned before: Azura of Dawn and Dusk. She's been known to aid her followers and is what people consider a 'good' Daedra."

Seeing that they still didn't understand he sighed and took another drink of mead. "The point is that Daedra are outside of our moralities. What we consider bad may be good to them or otherwise. So it is incorrect to label them with 'good' or 'evil'"

"So then which ones aren't… as 'evil' as the others." inquired Louise.

"Well… Azura is…"

* * *

**This will be a spoiler for future updates. Don't read if you don't want to know. This is also just conjecture so it's liable to change.**

**I'm thinking of having Gah-Ei go out in a blaze of glory later. It would be suitable considering what he is capable of. It'll be him versus and army and despite how powerful he is; I think army would win in the end. So it's either holding the Reconquesta army off at Newcastle while the Royal family escapes, during the defense of Tarbes riding a dragon, during the invasion when all hell breaks loose, or a completely new scenario made up by do you think?**


	14. Chapter 14

**I guess the Dragonborn won't die then; or if he does he'll encounter a certain someone with one of the greatest assets I have ever seen. **

**Since I made Siesta from Mundus; the earth tech that appears in Halkengenia will be replaced by something else. I'm sure that people would be able to guess whose technology replaces the earth technology. There aren't that many things that mysteriously disappeared in Tamriel anyway.**

**Are there detailed figures for the militaries of Halkengenia? I remember Albion having around 70,000 after they were invaded and the Germanian-Tristainian invasion force was over 100,000 but I can't seem to find much else in the Light Novels. Maybe I should watch the anime.**

**Also doesn't Louise seem a bit too okay after she just blows up the Lexington and the Albion fleet at Tarbes? There were probably thousands of sailors and sailors on board that died in the spell. I would have thought that she would be a bit more concerned by how she just killed thousands of people with families; thousands of families that won't see their husbands and sons again. Unless the trauma with killing people is a lot less than what I've heard of in Zero no Tsukaima. That doesn't excuse how Saito kills people and isn't disturbed by it.**

* * *

Thonjolf strode confidently through the palace doors. Two regular Winterhold Soldiers flanking him on both sides.

They travelled undisturbed by the eyes of the curious servants and Nobles. At the heart of Tristain; there were given a wide berth by everyone; with the exception of the Imperial Guards.

It was a strange name for the division of the best mage knights of Tristain. The title: 'Imperial' suggested that Tristain was an empire when it was anything but. Realistically; they were actually a 'Royal Guard' instead of an 'Imperial Guard'.

He and his party came to a stop just outside of the throne room. Like the rulers in Tamriel; Tristain used its throne room as the place to deal with the daily business of ruling their demesne.

The parallels between their worlds were intriguing. Yet it disturbed him on how theirs was more advanced than the Empires. While our metallurgy was still superior due to the more variety of tougher and stronger material and our mastery and understanding of magic was like comparing a sun to a dim light; the technology here overall was far more advanced than what they had.

They had nothing to even compare with these 'banks' of theirs. Even without actual experience with them; he could already see the possible benefits of having such a facility. Winterhold's economy could expand greatly with their introduction into Tristain's economy.

But the most dangerous was their vessels and firearms. He had been introduced to the flying ships when it was first proposed.

Winterhold had a large cliff face near the College; the sheer drop lead to the Sea of Ghosts so if by some miraculous chance the fall didn't kill you; then the sea would.

Yet during the transition; it changed. The cliff was still there; but where a freezing cold sea with white ice sheets once lay there was now a green pasture land with a town in the distance.

While Winterhold couldn't use this at all; Tristain could. The sheer cliff face had a huge potential to be a major port for the magically powered ships. It goes without saying; that using flying ships to was better than using sleds and carts over snow.

But while they were of huge economic benefit; Thonjolf couldn't help but wonder what would happen if they turned their flying warships against them.

They would be too far up for the average archers; leaving only heavier equipment like trebuchets or ballista to hit them. And even those couldn't hold a candle to those 'cannons' they used.

The more powerful destruction spells could hit them; meaning that the more skilled mages could deal damage to them. But the majority of the College were scholars not warriors. While Winterhold did maintain a division of Battlemages; it was doubtful there were enough of them with sufficient magicka and skill to beat them.

The best deterrent against their fleet would be the dragons. While most now followed the 'Way of the Voice' he knew that they would support Winterhold if the Dragonborn calls for the.

Even if they were now pacifists; he doubted that they have so quickly forgotten the ways of battle and blood. One's very nature doesn't change that quickly; especially since Dragons are immortal.

"The Steward of Winterhold: Lord Thonjolf!"

And there was another strange thing about Tristain culture. It was quite uncompromising and titles in Winterhold were switched to something they were more familiar with. While it didn't really matter at all; it was just a bit… disconcerting hearing his new title.

He entered the throne room calmly and at an even pace. Numerous courtiers eyed him as he made a small bow to the Princess and the Cardinal. While he was aware the real queen of Tristain still drew breath; it had slightly surprised him to learn that she had all but relinquished her powers to her daughter and the Cardinal.

"Lord Thonjolf. We wish to inquire as to the nature of these complications the Lord of Winterhold has spoken of." started the Cardinal, straight to point.

Thonjolf hid a smile. Tristain was preparing for war. With Reconquesta rising in Albion and the rebel's goals apparently set on Tristain; it was a prudent move to mobilize the levies and armies of Tristain.

The Nord Jarl was more than disgruntled by the call for soldiers. The Princess and the Cardinal had suspiciously left out the fact that they might be at war in a few months during the negotiation of Winterhold's position.

But it was too late to change that now and the Jarl was too honourable to abandon Tristain. Instead it was best to make the best of the situation.

"My apologies; but with the ban on all our Elven citizens from leaving the boundaries of Winterhold; we are having logistic issues as a portion of our military is manned by Elves. Also since the majority of our battlemages are of Elven descent; it leaves them severely weakened as most are now unable to come to Tristain's aid." He said apologetically.

The issue of Elves was a sticking point; one that he was hoping to rectify. While it was unrealistic for the xenophobic society of Tristain to accept Elves so soon; if their common soldiers fought and died together with Elves they could hopefully be seen in a better light.

And the first step to that was to mobilize Elven soldiers. He had been telling the truth when he said there were logistic issue and the trouble with the battlemages. While it was possible that Tristain wouldn't let Elves help them; he highly doubted it.

Elves were, according to Tristainians, far above the power of humans where a single elf could defeats hundreds of humans. With a reputation like that and war looming on the horizon; the Princess would have to be an idiot to not enlist their aid.

Even if the Mer of Winterhold could not hold to such a reputation; they would be a welcome addition to Tristain's small military regardless. Tristain's standing army was disciplined and well equipped but they lacked the numbers to deter the Reconquesta threat. While the quality of troops played a huge role in determining a victor; the numbers that one can bring to fore mattered more. And it was this that Tristain was lacking in.

Levies would have to be mustered to fill the number difference. But as they would mostly be green peasants armed with scant armour and a rusty weapon; they could not be relied on to stand against the battle-hardened troops of Reconquesta, who are soon likely to come out of a bloody civil war as the winners.

While Winterhold's troops couldn't pull up Tristain's army to match Albions; they could offer the professional troops and war-mages that Tristain desperately needed.

"And how long will this problem take to resolve?" asked the Princess in concern.

"I estimate that it would take months for the men to become battle-ready with these new changes." That was a huge over estimation of the time it would take. But he needed them to either rescind or alter their policy on Elves. He was nearly completely certain that Tristain's need for a suitable defence against an aggressive Albion would overtake their natural loathing of Elves. By nature; people were pragmatic when circumstances forced to them be.

* * *

The crown princess of Tristain pursed her lips. She knew that she needed the army of Winterhold. With the exception of the Royal Army, the Knight Orders and the routines of a few prominent nobles; there was no real significant military presence in Tristain.

Often in the past; it was the political alliances that Tristain made with its more powerful neighbours which deterred wars. But now with their traditional ally of Albion being the threat and Gallia maintaining a neutral position with world events; they were forced to turn to Germania for assistance.

But their supposed alliance was taking far too long to be of use when Albion invades; as it has long proclaimed it would do when stated that they wanted to unite Halkengenia and start a crusade to the Holy Land. In fact if she suspected that Germania was intentionally stalling her marriage with their Emperor to test Albion.

She supposed it made sense. With Albion's naval superiority; it was near impossible to beat them in their own territory. It made military sense to crush them in a more favourable environment. And Tristain would be that battleground.

It would be killing two birds with one stone. Reconquesta invades Tristain. They would fight and it's likely that Albion would conquer Tristain; while weakening their own forces. With this; Germania could invade Tristain to 'free' its people. With Reconquesta already weakened; it wouldn't be hard to crush their military in Tristain.

No matter what happened; Germania would come out the most the winner. Germania would acquire Tristain from Albion since she and the Royal family would likely be dead. Reconquesta would be cowed back to recover in Albion and would likely self-implode before they could get another 'crusade' up. Even in Tristain somehow managed to defeat Albion and survive; Germania loses nothing at all but gains two weakened neighbours. In fact they could even send in their 'promised' aid when it becomes clear that Tristain would win to share in on the prestige and fame.

That was _if_ Tristian was to win. And they they needed to build up its armies and fleets to even contemplate that.

"And this couldn't be sped up." She inquired of the steward of Winterhold.

The unassuming man shook his head. "Not without compromising the organization and discipline of our troops; especially since some of our officers are Elves."

Ah yes; their officers and leaders. It was alien in how their society could function without their leaders possessing magic.

Shaking the unnecessary thoughts out of head; she focused on the matter at hand. The man was indirectly giving her an ultimatum. Either she could allow their changes to occur which, according to the Nord, would take months which Tristain did not have or she could simply let their Elves leave Winterhold.

It was a matter of whether the populace would accept the Elves over their need to defend their country. She didn't know how much use their soldiers would be; but already trained divisions of soldiers and battlemages would likely be a great benefit to the defence of Tristain. But the question was whether Tristain's army would work with them.

The disciplined troops of the Royal Army and the Knights could be trusted to not start fights; but with the amount of levies that were being called up…

Infighting between them would be disastrous. She had received reports on those Tristainians that had attacked Elves in Winterhold. Bystanders had not hesitated to draw weapons and rush to the Elf's side to defend them.

She knew that trained soldiers would have more restraint than that; but if tensions did reach over boiling points; then the after effects would be far more lethal and widespread.

"You're Highness. I believe you are thinking the same thing as me. If so then know that you have my support. We need their soldiers and mages." whispered Mazarin.

She was slightly surprised by the admission from the architect of the original decision to confine the Elves to Winterhold. The Cardinal was a man of the Church and like all the devoted; they shared a common hatred of the Elves in the Holy Land. But it appears he was Tristainian before a man of the Church.

Yes. Hastily trained and poorly equipped peasant levies couldn't match professional soldiers. And it helped that Tristain's treasure wouldn't have to pay for the upkeep of Winterhold's troops. That was one benefit of having Winterhold as a 'protectorate' instead of assimiliating them into Tristain; though she admitted that Tristain was doing a poor job of being the 'protector'.

She resolved to make up for that in the future. It would forever be a stain on Tristain's name if they failed to help their new protectorate.

"So your forces are unable to marshal due to the Elves within their ranks. Is that correct?" she asked.

Thonjolf nodded; the smirk he held hidden away behind a face of impassiveness. "Yes your highness."

She nodded solemnly. She could already envision the disputes she would have with what she was going to do. But they could be put aside until Tristain's security could be assured.

"Then you may consider the law confining Elves to Winterhold void for the time being. This is exclusively for the Elves within direct service to Winterhold." she declared. Some of the higher ranking nobles nodded to her decision; they had already seen it coming a mile away. Those younger nobles of lesser rank took this less gracefully. But she knew they wouldn't challenge her over this, at least not publically.

"Thank you; your highness; but I must ask for how long this period would last. It would be inconvenient if Elves were caught outside Winterhold's borders when you reinstate the law." said the Nord.

It was obvious that he was pushing for a complete removal of the law. But she couldn't let that happen just yet. This would be yet another goal of hers in the future: the peaceful integration of Elves within Tristain.

She already knew what the Church's response to this would be. No doubt that they would call for the destruction of the Elves and all those that associated with them. And when the time comes; she knew which side she would stand on. Tristain would not abandon its allies.

Worst case scenario would be the Church of the Founder and by extension Romalia would call upon a Holy Crusade to eradicate Winterhold and Tristain if need be. In this case it wouldn't be military action that threatened Tristain but internal dangers from the most devoted followers of the Church.

Henrietta knew that, despite the Church's insistence otherwise, the commoners weren't too religious. It stemmed from the fact that the religion centred on the Founder wanted them to constantly use their lives serving the nobles.

No; the threat came from the nobles themselves. Already dissidents were voicing their discontent at her tolerance of the Elves in Winterhold. And while the Reconquesta threat still united all of Tristain's aristocrats under her; she couldn't help but wonder what came next.

"You need not worry; Lord Thonjolf. We will give ample time for them to return if we were to reinstate the law." she replied.

More than a few sharp nobles caught onto the implications of her words. Their less experienced peers were surprised by the sudden shift in their colleagues but couldn't identify the message she gave.

"Many thanks Princess Henrietta. That is all Winterhold can ask." The Nord finished. His goal achieved; he quickly made his retreat from the room.

As soon as he had left the room; the royal steward stepped forward to announce the next petitioner.

"Count La Ramee, Commander in Chief of Tristain!"

There was mixed reception to that. For someone of high military rank to personally come meant that something of great importance had occurred.

The Admiral of Tristain's fleet entered the room. He was dressed in a standard officer's uniform; numerous medals of leadership, bravery and skill decorated it. A extravagant Admiral's cape was thrown over his shoulder; it being the only sign, alongside his medals, of his high rank.

In contrast to the Steward of Winterhold; La Ramee took a deep bow to the Princess. "Your Highness; I bring important news of Albion."

Henreitta's demeanour turned grim. Recently; any news of Albion was never good. A quick memory of Wales flashed through her mind. She fretted as she remembered that Newcastle was the last Royalist stronghold and… that was where Wales was.

"Has Newcastle fallen then?" she grimly asked of the Admiral. That was likely the only important news that Tristain's Commander in Chief would bring; that or news of Albion invading.

Surprisingly; he shook his head in negative. With a glint in his eyes; he told of what happened in Newcastle and the failure of Reconquesta.

* * *

**I know that many people would think that the thousands of mages in Winterhold would be a huge factor in a battle. But you have to remember that most of them are not soldiers. The College of Winterhold is a facility dedicated to furthering the arts of magic; not teaching people how to fight with magic. While I'm not saying they don't know how to fight; it's unreasonable to expect all of them to be capable of fighting in a large scale battle.**

**That being said; warriors and mages aren't the only thing that Winterhold can bring to war. Healers, potions, enchanted weapons, and if Gah-Ei gets involved; then powerful dragons. I'm debating as to whether staffs need someone to have magic to use but if anyone else has any ideas as to what else Winterhold can bring to help Tristain do tell.**

**Am I spelling Reconquesta wrong because Microsoft Word always wants to fix it to Reconquista**


	15. Chapter 15

**Wow I'm an idiot. I finished this; days ago and thought I already posted it. Turns out I didn't. 'slaps myself in the face'**

**The next few chapters will be set into the past as Gah-Ei goes to Albion. Thanks for the suggestions in the reviews. On the suggestion of GWise; I revised a small bit of chapter 11. Thonjolf couldn't possibly have known about Henrietta's affair; so I made it so one of his 'sevants' overheard it (With magical means).**

**Anyone wonder what would happen if Louise actually summoned someone from her own world like the rest of the Void mages. Say: Kirche for example. The Germanian might even be subservient to Louise since I think the runes do have some built in compulsion charm or something. It does explain why Saito is willing to both kill and take abuse for Louise. Though if it causes the familiar to fall in love with the summoner it might be Yuri then… I'll just stop there.**

* * *

The Journey to Albion was filled with obstacles.

With a civil war on-going in the Isle of White; the level of safety there for the average person wasn't too high. Consequently; not too many people wanted to go there.

Only the most daring of captains would fly their ship to Albion; and they were few, indeed. These brave men were more than willing to accommodate the few traders and opportunists that sought passage to Albion; for a steep price.

Likewise; there were only a few captains willing to bring aboard an Argonian. Of those few willing; not one was also willing to go the Albion.

They blamed it on his appearance. When he was fully armoured in Daedric Armour; he made an imposing figure. Back in Tamriel; people thought he was a Dremora. In Halkengenia; people thought he was devil. Some things never seemed to change.

It was only exacerbated by the fact that the only port town with vessels willing to risk journeying to Albion were focussed in La Rochelle, within Gallia. As such only a few of the local Gallians were aware of the existence of his race.

Oddly enough he saw the same knight captain that accompanied the Princess to the Academy of Tristain while he looked for a boat at La Rochelle. No doubt the man also saw him; the wide berth that everyone gave the Argonian was a big indicator.

If he remembered right: the knight was called 'Wards'; a strange name even for this land. Why would someone who protected the Princess as a personal bodyguard be in La Rochelle? Likely another question he will never have the answer to.

Leaving La Rochelle; he meant to call upon another means of transport.

* * *

Gah-Ei had left the road nearly a half hour ago. He had no idea where he was going but it had to be away from where people could see. He didn't need people to get any more ideas about him when they see him riding a dragon. Already they assumed he was bloodthirsty berserker and a half-demon.

Even the birds here seemed to stop chirping as he passed by the roosts. The sunlight rained down on him relentlessly and from within his thick, dark armour he felt a mild irritation.

He stumbled upon a small glade and that was where the Dragonborn decided that he had travelled far enough.

"ODAHAVIING!"

Ripples formed in the air as the power of the thuum passed through it. The grass and leaves shivered as they felt the force of his thuum.

If he couldn't reach Albion by ship; then he will make do with a dragon. He leaned against a tree as he waited for his long-time ally and friend.

It didn't take long before he heard the flapping of strong wings. A large shadown enveloped the glade as dust rose from the ground.

"vir vis zu'u aam hi dii thur (How can I serve you my Overlord?)"

Odahviing landed heavily on the ground and the ground shook briefly from the landing. Loose leafs were shaken of their branches as a flock of small birds scattered at the arrival of the dragon.

"Eyvir zey wuth fahdon (Well met old friend)" the Overlord greeted. The relationships between them was much more casual than suggested by Odahviing's gesture of acquiescence; but the Dragon was a stickler for the proper formalities.

Gah-Ei walked freely towards the Winged Snow Hunter. "Los hi tok wah kun zey wah hrotvon por? (Are you able to take me to the floating isle?) He asked of the dragon.

"hrotvon por? (Floating Isle?) " quieried Odahviing.

"Have the dragons not explored these new lands yet?" asked the Argonian, switching away from the Dragon Language.

The crimson dragon snorted in derision. "Most Dovah are content with staying back on their mountain top. Only a few have actually explored this new land; though none of them speaks of a floating isle." answered Odahviing, switching languages without a hitch.

"And what of you?"

This time Odahviing snorted in amusement. Small puffs of grey smoke ejecting form his nostrils. "You kid me. I suppose you need me to get there." noted the dragon; intelligent eyes focusing on the smaller form of the Argonian.

"Yes. The locals haven't proven too kindly to my race." admitted Gah-Ei, already moving to the side of Odahviing.

The dragon craned his neck back to look at the Dragonborn. "Do they not know who you are? I thought that stories if your exploits would have been shared among you mortals."

Gah-Ei waved his hand dismissively. He seated himself firmly on top of Odahviing; adjusting so that his tail wouldn't be impaled by the spikes on his servant's spine. "What I did was a long time ago; there are new heroic deeds to tell and new heroes to admire."

Seeing that the Argonian was properly mounted on him; Odahviing flapped his wings hard and fast. The large dragon lifted off the air and hovered only just slightly above the tree line.

"It was not so long ago that you slew Alduin." objected Odahviing.

"You Dragons are immortal. Time always seems to go slower for your kind since you're all not in a rush to live like us." countered Gah-Ei.

They were well into the air now; the trees seemed far smaller from this height. Gah-Ei could even see the tiny long strip of dirt road he had traversed not so long ago.

"Which way Dovahkin?" roared Odahviing; ready to go.

When he didn't receive an answer; he repeated his question, louder this time. "Which way to the Floating Isle thuri?"

His head could only draw blanks as he tried to remember where Albion was. He knew that it was east of Tristain; but that's about it. Gah-Ei could only slap his head in frustration. He couldn't believe he didn't know.

* * *

An incredibly close roar echoed across the clouds. The crew of the Castella stopped in their tracks as a large shadow traced across the deck. The flapping sounds of a large winged beast could be heard from above the ship.

Sailors shouted and pointed as the shadow disappeared. More than a few rushed to the railings to catch a view of what had just passed them.

They would regret that as a dragon dived upward, brushing the railings with its wings. Performing a roundabout in the air; it came to steady itself in speed to draw abreast with the vessel.

The curious sailors who were at the railing drew back in shock and awe. They stumbled back in their rush to put distance between them and what was obviously a dangerous carnivore.

The crew of the flying ship was not impressed. No; they were more terrified than anything else. A few of them had seen drakes and dragons before; always tamed and mounted by mages.

But they one they currently faced was nearly twice as large as the normal dragon. Having only the hind legs and the wings entwined with the arms; this dragon was unlike anything ever seen.

Whereas the usual dragons had smooth even scales so much that it felt like soft skin; this one had rugged red scales across its body with it being separated into different parts of its hide. Several jagged horns and spikes decorated its body; adding to its threatening form.

But the scariest part was the head. Cunning and intelligence could be seen in its eye and if they didn't know better; then it looked like it was being amused by their frightened reaction.

There were rumours of more ferocious and strange dragons prowling the skies of Tristain. Of course; no one had actually ever seen one, but many claimed to have heard their roars. But they were meant to be just the run of the mill rumours.

The one in front of them was definably not just a baseless rumour.

"Well met! Do any of you happen to know the direction to Albion?"

To add to the strangeness was the devilish man riding it. From head to toe; he was covered in charcoal black and blood red armour. If one concentrated; then they could see red orbs glowing within the helmet.

And he had a tail. A TAIL!

"Answer the question." rumbled the dragon.

And a talking dragon… why not?

Looks were shared between the crew as they implored for someone to answer before they get eaten. Eventually they all drifted to the captain who was sweating nervously as his crew 'encouraged' him to answer.

Taking what might be his last breath; the captain stepped forward to meet the dragon; his crew stepping aside to let him advance. Just tell them where Albion is and they'll leave. This was the mantra that he repeated in his head as he came face to face with the red dragon. He could do this! Just tell them it's north-east and they'll be gone.

Staring into the depths of the dragons eyes; his earlier confidence died.

"I…It's no… north-we... west fr… from here." The captain said; fronting up to the dragon and his rider.

"Many thanks landstrider." called out the rider as the Dragon disengaged from the vessel.

The dragon let out another roar as it glided through the clouds. Its speed far surpassing what the vessel could do.

They remained quiet for a few minutes; unsure of whether it will return or not. After what seemed like days; the captain let out a sigh of relief.

With that the sailors surrounded their captain; proudly congratulating him for 'driving off' the dragon. The captain in turn smiled sheepishly before it grew more confident.

By nightfall; they would be toasting each other about how they braved a deadly dragon and it's demon rider. And when they reached La Rotecce; a great tale of bravery and the steadfast will of loyal crewmen in the face of the evil dragon rider will be complete.

* * *

Odahviing soared through the air with great speed. More often than not; the dragon simply let the wind currents propel him further along towards their destination.

Gah-Ei hanged on to the dragon. He now remembered why this was such an exhilarating method of travel. It was the constant feeling of danger that brought adrenaline to his aging body.

Nothing within Skyrim proved a challenge anymore; the once perilous dangers now only a passing annoyance: Draugrs burning with ease in fire, mages a pathetically weak in melee and bandits lacking any real skill. The Dragons didn't attack anymore and their undead priests had already been mostly put to eternal rest by him.

All in all; there was little that could bring him real danger on the ground. But up here in the air; where a single mistake could lead to you falling to your death; it was exhilarating. It had been a long time since he felt like this and he couldn't recall why he didn't do this more often.

The floating island of Albion could be seen now. It looked like someone ripped out a part of the land and left it suspended in the air. Large tracks of earth jutted out of the bottom of the island; forming what looked like a reversed mountain.

He could also see why it was named the Isle of the White. It was an apt name as the coasts of Albion were replaced with steep pristine white cliffs.

"Dovahkin! I see a town further ahead; between the two headlands." reported Odahviing beneath him.

Gah-Ei squinted his reptilian eyes. Distinctly he could make out the grey and black buildings among the green of the forests; a clear mark of civilization.

"We'll make land there." he said.

Odahviing grunted in acknowledgement; dipping his head slightly as he did so.

Once they made land; they could see to finding where Newcastle was. He still hadn't figured out how he was going to get into the Royalist castle without attracting too much attention; but he was sure he would come up with something later.

His stomach then chose that moment to grumble. Gah-Ei ignored it; he had a small bag of wrapped bread and a wineskin tied to his waist but he dared not eat it while flying. Knowing his bad luck; they'll end up flying out of his hand.

As if his words were an omen; what looked like a squad of dragons and their riders chose that moment to make themselves known.

Armoured in deep dark blue steel and wielding a weapon that looked like a mixture of a wand and a sword; they intercepted him and Odahviing in their air. Their black capes billowed in the air as they formed a semi-circle around them, keeping him within striking distance yet still having enough room to dodge a surprise attack.

"Halt! In the name of the Holy Emperor Cromwell I; identify yourself."

Gah-Ei raised empty hands into the air as a gesture of peace as Odahviing slowed down to a stop. "I'm Gah-Ei of Winterhold. I'm just passing by."

The dragon riders seemed to relax slightly at his declaration; though the obvious leader seemed to continue executing caution. "What's this Winterhold? I've never heard of it!"

Gah-Ei was stupefied. Surely the mass teleportation of a city couldn't be a regular occurrence. He could understand that they were busy with a civil war and not too many ships travelled to Albion and thereby restricted the passage of knowledge, but still…

"Winterhold's a protectorate of Tristain." he informed the captain.

That was clearly the wrong thing to say; as the dragon riders swiftly aimed their sword-wands at him. They expressions hardened as the captain spoke again. "Then it's best you turn back. We have no mercy for spies."

That judgement was a bit extreme. Just because he came from Tristain he was a spy?

"I have no idea what you are talking about. I'm no spy!" he objected.

The captain didn't blink as he responded to his objection. "Only mages can ride a dragon familiar and no commoner could possibly have armour like yours. Turn around now and we'll let you leave in peace. " He said coldly.

"Nust los shurvon wah iidah ol das ol mu straag un yar. Il mii nos diist. (They are going to attack as soon as we turn our back. Let us strike first)" rumbled Odahviing.

The mages paid no heed to the noises the dragon made. But the same could not be said for Gah-Ei.

"Vir dreh hi mindok? (How do you know?) He murmured back softly so that only his mount could hear.

"Zu'u lost mindok pogaan lo; pruzaan nahlrii kaaz (I have known many deceivers; the best being a khajiit.)

"Very well then." Gah-Ei answered for both of them.

The captain maintained a poker face throughout this. His men shared his expression as they made ready to kill the intruder.

Without warning; Odahviing dived beneath them. The dragon riders responded immediately with fire and wind spells being directed towards him.

"Zu'u fen lif daar wah hi! (I'll leave this to you!)" shouted Gah-Ei as he unsheathed his sword. He knew that he couldn't fight in the air effectively like this; but at least he could deter them from getting too close.

Odahviing nosedived through a cloud; three of the dragon riders followed; though the remaining two split from the rest and swept upwards above the cloud.

It was a wise decision as the red dragon stalled in the air. With the low visibility within the thick wet cloud; Gah-Ei reacted on instinct as he performed a sweeping cut to his left.

Though he could not see what he hit; he felt the miniscule resistance his sword met and spotted the crimson blood that his sword now eagerly drank. A scream of pain sounded off in front of him.

"Lok Vah Koor!"

The clouds cleared with Odahviing's shout. The one closest to them held his bleeding arm; desperately trying to both steer his dragon and stem the blood.

The other two were only meters directly ahead of them and were aiming their wands at them again. Jets of flames shot out of the wands and they combined to form a single more powerful burst of magic.

Odahviing, unable to manoeuvre fast enough to dodge it, took the brunt of the flames as they danced across his hide.

Meanwhile the two other dragon knight above them seeing their chance dove down towards them. Both held their sword-wands directly at them; a spinning drill of air forming around it.

Gah-Ei pivoted in his tedious seat to face the two diving lancers. His thoughts rushed through a number of shouts he could use before settling on one. "Zun Haal Viik!"

Where fire and ice might only hinder them; warriors are worthless without their weapons. As such the two knights were surprised when their wands were ripped out of their hands; and the one on the left who tried to hold on could only shout in pain as his and broke for his efforts.

"Yol Toor Shul!"

A breath of fire burst out of Odahviing's mouth. It was quick but not quick enough as both his targets managed to avoid the attack.

With nothing barring his way; Odahviing resumed his flight as the two disarmed knights floundered around before agreeing to withdraw.

The captain gave a curt order was given and the last two able knights warily drew away from the dragon. With one bleeding out and two without weapons; it was prudent to withdraw and just report this to his superiors.

Aware that they would inform others about him; Gah-Ei directed Odahviing to give pursuit; an order the red dragon was more than willing to follow.

Upon seeing that he following them; the two healthy knights slowed down to face him. Once again they released jets of flames towards them; though this time, without the advantage of being so close, they were easily ignored by the Winged Snow Hunter as he weaved his way past them.

"Yol Toor Shul!"

Another breath of fire spiralled between them as the two dragon knights split off to dodge the attack.

Odahviing craned his neck towards the one to the right, the closer one. Power shimmered around him as the mighty dragon shouted.

"Fus Ro Dah!"

The ferocious burst of wind took the dragon knight by surprise. It was not surprise to either dovah when the man was thrown off his mount. His screams trailed off as he fell; his mount tailing him, desperate to save him.

"Fireball!"

A large ball of fire hurtled towards them. The other dragon knight was already preparing another spell; his expression grim as Odahviing pushed himself above the fireball with a burst of strength from his wings.

"Fire blade!"

His wand was lit with fire as a blade of flames formed off of it. His mount unleashed a roar of challenge before nose diving towards them.

Odahviing met the challenge with a roar of his own as he turned his body to meet the attacker.

"Fo Krah Diin!"

This time shards of frost came out of his mouth in vast numbers. The opposing dragon reacted instantly and pulled off his dive to avoid the frost.

As Odahviing prepared to unleash another shout of power; the knight leaped off his mount. His mount shrieked in surprise and quickly followed his descent towards them.

Soaring through the air; he chopped downwards towards Gah-Ei. With practised reactions; the Argonian raised his own daedric blade to meet it.

The flames passed through his blade easily and both Gah-Ei and Odahviing grunted in pain as the blade of fire passed through them. The knight was obviously surprised that it didn't work but didn't let it deter him as his dragon caught him by the shoulder.

The dragon then did a flip in the air; releasing his grip on his master and righting himself just in time for his master to land hard on his back. The knight grunted in pain as he felt the pain shock through his groin.

It was an incredible display of acrobatics; but it didn't matter at all as a blade pierced him through the mouth.

"Yol Toor Shul!"

Appearing behind the dragon knight while they were performing their acrobatics; Gah-Ei withdrew his blade from the man's head as Odahviing roasted his dragon.

As the corpse and carcass dropped out of the sky; Gah-Ei turned back to the town he was originally hoping to get into to.

The three wounded dragon knights were now replaced with twenty-five fresh ones that were rushing to reach him. He could even see two of the smaller ships manoeuvring out of the two headlands following the dragons.

"I think we overstayed our welcome." quoted Gah-Ei from some book he remembered reading.

"Where are we ever welcomed?" asked Odahviing as he took off in the opposite direction.

Gah-Ei half-heartedly thought about that. Where was he ever welcomed while he was riding a dragon?

"Well ther- ugh." gasped Gah-Ei in pain.

"You are wounded." stated Odahviing; though there was no concern detectable in his voice.

"I know." grunted Gah-Ei. "We need to find somewhere to land."

* * *

**I must say; I feel that I don't do battle scenes too well or well at all actually.**


End file.
